Making Memories
by lindencovenant
Summary: Christmas in Schooner Bay in the Day On Universe brings many things for the Captain and Carolyn to smile about.


**Making Memories**

_Author's Note: I do NOT own the characters who appeared on the actual TV show, or their guests from the BBC. However, Tabitha and I, under various and sundry pennames do own the non-canonical to any TV series characters. Thanks to Mary for editing and encouragement, to my readers for their support, to the creators for their shows, and to the Creator for any talent in me. _

"Have you ever considered wearing a bell?" Carolyn Gregg asked her husband as he appeared in the living room of Gull Cottage.

Confusion and a trace of hurt clouded the ghost's eyes. "Why would I do that, my dear?" He held up the cup in his hand. "I thought you might enjoy some coffee."

Carolyn smiled. "Thank you. But, warn me when you are about to appear this time of year, please? I don't want any surprises ruined." Truth be told, she was feeling rather clueless about what to get her favorite ghost, or any of the others, for Christmas. This was not a new experience, but for some reason, this year was being especially difficult.

Daniel's eyes brightened. "Oh, you don't? Hmm. How — intriguing." He floated the mug over to his lady. "I take it you have solved your annual dilemma, then?"

For a split second, a grimace flashed across her face as she accepted the drink. "Thank you. I won't say if I have or not. What I will say is that it is on your own head if you wind up with something totally wrong. If you would just TELL ME what you want..."

"I believe that is something of which I inform you on a daily basis, and I am not disappointed."

Carolyn turned a deep pink. Coughing, she retorted, "I would like to have something — nice — for you to open _in front of the family_."

"If I told you that I need nothing, other than what I have been given, and that any present from you is exactly right..." Captain Gregg began, tugging on his ear.

Carolyn fixed him with a stare. "I'd be forced to do something drastic, like sticking my tongue out at you. I _like_ giving you gifts, but it would be even more fun to give you something appropriate. And, I hate feeling like I give you, or anyone, for that matter, the same thing, over and over."

Inwardly shaking his head at female foolishness, Daniel lifted one sleek brow. "As you wish, my dear Madam. If you indeed have not determined what the 'right' gift is for me, then why are you panicked over the idea of me seeing something now?"

"I was looking through a catalog, trying to get ideas, and you know me so well, you'd be able to put two and two together and determine what I'll probably get you, ruining my surprise."

Now, he could not hold back the words. "Female, you are eternally, confoundedly, and delightfully, female."

Carolyn tried to lift one brow to match his expression, but failed. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood, and will just focus on the word 'delightfully.' Since you are eternally male, I'm rather glad to be female."

"As am I, my dear." After kissing her tenderly, Daniel asked, "Now, what has you in such a good mood?"

"The holidays, our wonderful family, being able to turn the _Beacon_ into a real paper, and having a husband who makes my day every day, even when he is being a problem because he needs nothing."

Laughing, Captain Gregg allowed, "All good reasons to be sure."

"But, I am concerned. Sean seems a little — off," Carolyn said.

Scratching his ear, Daniel asked, "Have we not had this conversation before? Nearly two years ago?"

"Yes, but I thought that now that Molly is home, the only blues he would have might be if someone gives him a Sam Cook record."

"I still do not gossip, my dear," the Captain said sternly. "However, as you are persistent, and I was not sworn to secrecy in regard to this, I will tell you, and swear YOU to secrecy."

Holding up her right hand, Carolyn nodded. "Scout's honor."

Daniel took her left hand in his own. "Just making sure there are no crossed fingers, my dear." He paused to wink at her. "It is nothing catastrophic, this time. He finally submitted the manuscript he has been plugging away on for some time, and it was rejected. He allegedly did not expect it to be accepted, but it still burns."

Carolyn nodded. "This is something I know well. Blast. Has he tried again?"

"He has rather given up," the ghost said quietly. "I think perhaps Jenny and Dave know. Molly was rather upset on her husband's behalf, and she does like to visit her godchild often. Jenny is much like her foster mother in her determination to find out things."

Carolyn shook her head. "I've read it over; it's good. Better than some of the things that have been let into print. Did he use our publisher?"

"No. He wanted to be - independent, I believe would be the term."

"Maybe..."

"My dear, if he wants your help, he will ask for it. He is not arrogant, but Sean does have his pride."

Pressing her lips together, Carolyn mentally looked for a little wiggle room in her promise. Finding none, she nodded reluctantly. "Okay. But, he DOES know I would gladly try and help, right?"

"Of course, love." Deciding it was time to change course, the Captain kissed her forehead gently. "I gather that you will be consumed with the frippery of the season for some time yet?"

"You object?" Mrs. Gregg asked in some surprise.

"That dream voyage we had was so enjoyable, I hoped we might take another in the near future," Daniel admitted.

"Perhaps for one of our anniversaries?" Carolyn suggested agreeably. "You know, one year, when the _Sea Vulture _was here last, the kids, your crew, and I racked our brains for hours trying to find a way to get you a ship for your birthday. We obviously failed." Discouragement marred her face for a second. "I would still love to."

Daniel looked as startled and pleased as if she had actually found him one. "Truly? That is — a lovely thought, my dear, but not needed."

"Uh-huh. You'd be tickled..."

Looking pained, he admonished, "Not pink."

"Simply tickled, then?"

"Perhaps. It is, as they say, the thought that counts."

XXX

The following afternoon, Dave, Jenny, Sean, Carolyn, and Daniel met to brainstorm about the changes they would like to make in the _Beacon. _Molly and Martha were keeping their eyes on Amberly, Dakota, and the cats so that the writers in residence could think without distraction. They had only been chatting a few minutes, when Molly popped to the door, intercepting Barnaby King's knock.

"Did you see me or sense me?" the professor/millionaire blinked.

"Sensed," the Irish lady smiled. Tapping her brow, she smiled, "Ghosts can feel their kith and kin. The others are in the living room."

"Others?" he frowned as he entered the house. "Is everyone hiding from Claymore?"

Molly stopped. "Hidin' from Claymore? Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean, that man is driving me insane, constantly calling with deals, schemes, and real estate," Barnaby sighed. "Cousin Blackie can't concentrate on his sermon preparations at home, so he's holed up at the church. I tried not answering the phone, but got worried that a parishioner needed Blackie. And when I didn't answer, he called Lynne and bugged her to see if I was there. So, she called and told me to deal with him because she didn't have time to tell Claymore off as he needed to be." The man shook his head. "I figured if I came here and Claymore tracked me down, he'd either be scared to come over, or Daniel could do that — tell him off , as he needed to be. He does it better than anyone else."

Molly laughed. "That he does. Though, I think Bronwyn might come in second place on that score. Tristan would be glad to spook him for ye, too. No, no one is hiding from Claymore here. The others are your staff, Mr. Publisher, sir. They're dreaming of what they want to do. It sort of fell together, mind you. Not really planned. Dave and Jenny came over so that the grandparents in there could have a visit with Amberly, and Sean and I were here, then all the authors in the bunch started talking about the paper, and Martha and I took over the baby and pet sitting."

"Oh, planned would be all right," Barnaby shrugged, thrusting his hands in his pockets. "They know what they are doing. I don't."

"I didna want you to think it was a deliberate snub. They're just excited. I'm sure that in a few minutes, one of them will realize you need to be called and step out to ask Martha to ring you."

"Maybe I have some kind of ESP, then?" Barnaby grinned, and they began moving toward the closed living room again.

As Molly placed a hand on the knob to open the door, Martha, carrying a wiggly Amberly who kept insisting, "Down. Walk," poked her head over the stair rail. "Molly? Oh, Barnaby. Sean just popped up here to ask me to phone you, but no one answers at Blackie's." She frowned. "You didn't drive, did you?"

"No. Siegfried summoned Tristan, who borrowed Lynne's car, and he would have come in, but she needed it back because one of her patients is in the hospital and she needs to make rounds."

"That's all right then. I can take you home, later, or I'm sure Dave and Jenny wouldn't mind."

"Down!" Amberly demanded.

"Not around the stairs, young lady," Martha replied firmly.

Very distinctly, the child countered, "Blast," provoking Martha to laugh so hard that Amberly nearly got her wish the hard way, by being almost dropped.

"I can see she's been around Grandpa a lot," Molly beamed. "Go on in, Barnaby. I think Martha and I have duties to attend to."

The little group of brainstormers welcomed their publisher gladly, and for the next hour or so, great plans were made until another knock interrupted them and Carolyn let Adam enter.

"Hi, Adam," she greeted him with a smile that faded abruptly. "You look exhausted."

"Is impending fatherhood wearing you out?" Dave asked.

"Hey!" Jenny exclaimed. "I hate to tell you, but you got the easy part."

"I know, and I'm most appreciative of the fact that you underwent a great trial to bring forth our daughter, but it IS tough on a guy, too."

Adam forced a smile. "Now that Jess is past the first trimester, things are going relatively easily. Actually, the first one wasn't that bad, either."

"Some women are fortunate," Carolyn nodded. "Candy was a rough pregnancy, but Jon was easier to carry."

"If it is not that, then what?" Sean asked.

Dropping onto a chair, Adam closed his eyes and bit out two words. "Mark Finley."

"Is that scoundrel trying to inflate the price of the paper?" Daniel demanded angrily.

"Among other things," the lawyer agreed. "Oh, don't worry; I got it all settled, for now. It just took some energy."

"Tell us about it," Carolyn prompted. "Do you need some coffee?"

"It's too early for brandy, I guess. I do have to drive, too." Adam opened one eye, half grinning. "Okay, thanks."

By the time Carolyn had the coffee poured and delivered, Molly and Martha had joined them. Amberly had been persuaded to nap.

"First, he wanted more money. That was simply quashed. I pointed out that he had asked for a price, we counter-offered, he accepted, and all the papers were signed and notarized. It was all legal, and I'd find a way to penalize him if he changed the price now. Then, he demanded a share of the paper, as an alternative to more money. I repeated the prior objection. Next, he wanted to retain some editorial control..."

"Absolutely NOT," Daniel stormed.

Holding up a hand, Adam said, "Let me tell the story, please. I said that, in cooler tones. Arctic, in fact. He claimed that since his family had founded the thing, it was his right. I directed him to the clause that denied that right. He wanted the name to remain the same. I refused to make promises, and pointed out that same clause. He has no further creative control. He wanted his family's name to appear in the masthead. Something to the effect of 'Schooner Bay Beacon Founded By Lucius Finley, Run By Finley Family blah blah blah.' My counter was it was sold by Mark Finley, and therefore, it was a new being. Change had come, I did not add that it was not a moment too soon. Thought it, did not say it. Besides, Elvira Grover and the Schooner Bay-ites, zens, whatever they are, have long memories, and will not forget. Furthermore, his ancestors might roll in their graves over what you all plan to do. He had thought of that, but recalled that his dear old dad had loved Carolyn's second surprise paper."

Daniel did not look even slightly apologetic at the reminder of the front page article retracting the false suicide story about his death.

"Anyway, I KO'd all such notions, then he semi-demanded a small box printed in each edition stating that the Finleys were the founders and ran it until now."

"Into the blasted ground," Daniel muttered. "Almost, that is."

"Granted, but stating that would not help. I mentioned that there might not be room with ads and news, etc. for that. At which point he indicated that he understood all about advertising, something you did not comprehend very well, Carolyn. It seems there was an issue early on about some rather muddled ads."

Martha snorted. "Ha! I loved that one!"

"Yes, a collector's item, I believe it is," Adam smirked. "Something he did not appreciate being informed of."

"Did you get him quelled?" Carolyn asked anxiously.

"Of course. I did have to cede his heirloom desk, and allow that it might be possible for him to have a going away party. However, I thought I should check with you, sir, before offering to disassemble said piece of furniture, so that it could be moved more easily. I also did consider offering to move him, but again, thought I should check before volunteering the pitching arms of your crew."

Carolyn's lips twitched and quivered, but Sean, Dave, and Martha had no trouble bursting out with laughter.

"I can just see the furniture flying from here to — everywhere," Dave got out between gasps.

"I can just see MARK flying through the air," Martha chuckled.

"Spinning upside down," Sean agreed.

Adam tried to maintain a serious look, but gave in and laughed as he had wanted to since the image first entered his mind in the middle of Mark's droning demands. Finally calming he asked, "I trust you can make do without his desk?"

Daniel scowled. "I'm not certain."

"Why would you want it? There's lovely furniture all over this house," Barnaby asked.

"Yes, but chopping down a tree is so very boring," Daniel said. "Shattering the desk would be much more interesting."

Barnaby started to join the mirth, but hesitated. "Uh — that was a joke?"

"Perhaps." Daniel's expression gave nothing away, but Barnaby was reasonably sure that it had been a comment made in jest. "I would, however, rather chop firewood than give that spineless turtle a party."

"There's already quite a few parties on the schedule in the coming weeks," Molly sighed. "I don't know how we can manage one more. Bronwyn and Blackie's play is on the nineteenth, dress rehearsals are the night before that. Tomorrow is the eleventh, and Helen's having a party. The choir is doing the cantata Sunday morning. And there are still many things to do for Christmas before the day gets here."

"Plus, getting things together to take over the paper," Carolyn added.

"He's not leaving until January," Adam noted. "We could stall it until then, and maybe something can come up to squeeze it out. A party is a small thing, if it will get him hurried along."

"It'd give Sig something to do," Jenny suggested. "Putting it together, that is."

"Keeping HIM busy hasn't been an issue, lately," Carolyn smiled.

"Aye," Sean nodded. "Dash, Tris, and I've had to run out to check on the horses half the time's he would have been doing it, lately."

"I could help you," Daniel said.

"Ye're busy, with your writing, Danny," Sean shrugged. "Gives us something useful to do."

Daniel grimaced. He did not like his crew to be so negative.

"It could be a party celebrating the fact that he IS going away," Adam shrugged.

"That IS something to rejoice over," Daniel admitted. "But, truly, with the holidays going on, there is not time to throw together even that much of a party, not for anyone outside our extended, and extensive, family."

"I told him he'd have to wait until January, if it was going to happen," Adam said. "I just wanted to see how you'd react. Much more calmly than I expected." He almost sounded disappointed.

"Only because I do not want to wake the child," Daniel somberly informed him.

"Speaking of which, is she ready for the Barbie Uncle Adam promised when she was born?" the lawyer shifted gears to ask.

"You are evil," Dave said. "Let me talk to Claymore, see if I can float a loan first, for the houses, cars, clothes, airplanes, and so on and so forth. And sunglasses. That pink shade everything associated with her comes in is BRIGHT."

"Adam, the minimum appropriate age for her is three, due to choking hazards," Jenny pointed out. "So, not yet, thanks."

"I think he's just being a punk today," Carolyn smirked. "Trying to tease us all."

"I'm owed some fun after dealing with Mark, nicely, for two blasted hours."

"You're owed Madeira for putting up with that cretin that long and not losing your cool," Daniel said.

"Yeah, but, as I said, I'm driving."

"That reminds me," Carolyn said, "we are planning the New Year's Eve party for here, right?"

"Yes," Martha nodded.

"I've been thinking," she continued, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "I know a lot of us are not affected by the drinking and driving issue. Drinking and popping has no hazards, does it?"

"No, but dear, we do need a more dignified name for it," Daniel admonished.

"Beaming?" Barnaby suggested. "Or teleporting? Transporting?"

"Tessaracting?" Jenny piped up.

"That's a mouthful," Molly blinked. "Where'd ye get it, lass?"

"_Wrinkle in Time_," Dave replied.

"Anyway," Carolyn began again, "I was thinking, it would be good if there's a rule, if you drink, you spend the night."

"It'd be safer to spend the night, drinking or NOT," Jenny softly said, tacitly reminding them that her parents had died at the hands of a drunk driver, and Candy's husband, Thom, had been hit by one. "Since we can't control what idiots do."

"Good point," Barnaby agreed. "Especially for Adam, Jess, Candy, and Thom, with the longer drives."

Carolyn nodded. "Daniel and I discussed it, and I wanted to test drive the idea on you all. The idea has been in the back of my head since Thom's wreck. He didn't do anything wrong except be in the wrong place at the same time some — pond scum — was on the road when they ought not be."

"You're wise, as you usually are, Carrie," Sean assured her. "'Tis not a huge problem in Schooner Bay, to be sure, though, ye never can tell. But, is there room?"

"We can manage," the Captain replied. "It's not like you lot will be holing up here for an indeterminate time, as you did when the ghost ship stripped our powers away temporarily. We did manage then, you must admit."

"Barely," Sean allowed. "Though, I did think Dash, Tris, and I might see if we were killable in the solid state."

"Granted, I was ready to test that theory myself, more than once," Daniel admitted, "but, if need be, we could manage again."

"I still need to know what Amberly might enjoy for Christmas," Adam sighed. "Jess has informed me that we are at edge of the enth hour in relation to shopping, and she does not want to cross the last minute line. And, while I'm asking questions, Carolyn, Jenny, did either of you ever crave when you were pregnant, how shall I say this? Plant life."

"Do you mean vegetables?" Carolyn asked. "That's a very healthy thing for her to want, pregnant or not, but especially pregnant."

"Not exactly. More on the order of — flowers, I think."

"Flowers? Could she have meant f-l-o-u-r?" Molly asked. "That is strange, but I do understand pregnant women can want unusual things."

"She mentioned a specific flower, a blue bell, and I can not think where to even find one, not that I would allow my wife to eat a weed."

"I think I can help you," Barnaby said. "It's a brand of ice cream, found primarily in Texas, and named for the state flower. She does not want to eat a flower. I had a student from Dallas a couple of years ago who talked about how much better that ice cream was than what we had available on campus. Made me sorta curious."

"It's winter! How can she crave ice cream, and how the blasted heck can I get a Texas ice cream? Flowers might be easier."

"Adam, you have ghosts in the family. It would be a long pop, but it would be possible," Daniel reminded him.

"That is a lot to ask of you all," the lawyer protested.

"And you have done much for this family," the Captain said. "We'll see what we can manage."

"When does Jonathan get home for the holidays?" Sean asked.

"Next week," Martha replied before Carolyn could open her mouth. "It'll be good to have everyone home again."

"That it will," Daniel agreed.

After a little more discussion, the meeting adjourned for the day.

XXX

Both Helen Wight's Christmas party and the Christmas cantata were rousing successes. Sean's solo, _O Holy Night _and Molly's_ Ave Maria _were the natural highlights of the show. They were not the only members of the family that shone during the musical presentation. Martha and Tristan provided accompaniment on the piano and guitar, and Dave's rendition of _Away in a Manger_ brought a few tears to the eye. Carolyn did wonder why Dash kept slipping Lynne pointed glances during the music, ones that made the good doctor looked slightly annoyed. Once she heard a furious "_no blasted way."_ She thought he replied something like _"waste of talent, then."_ However, Mrs. Gregg knew she wasn't supposed to have overheard, so could not ask.

December 14

Having decided to drive straight through, Jonathan Muir arrived home sometime after his mother went to bed and his step-dad fell into a light trance. So, in the pre-dawn hours, Captain Gregg found him piled up on the couch with two cats on his stomach and Dakota covering his feet. The ghost could not imagine how anyone could sleep like that, but after arguing with Carolyn for fourteen years over her penchant for sleeping in a chair, he had accepted that some people simply were comfortable in apparently uncomfortable positions. Perhaps it was a genetic trait.

When the coffee was made, the aroma roused both mother and son.

"Help, I'm buried!" Jon called out as Carolyn stumbled into the room, yawning.

"When did you get in?"

"Around — one, I guess," the boy shrugged, trying to dislodge the dog, who just lifted her head and gave him an indignant look. "Guess I really crashed, never felt these three climb on me. They make a good insulation."

"Get down, girl," Carolyn chided, giving the lump of fur a gentle shove.

Reluctantly, Dakota jumped to the floor.

"The chute in the basement has been fixed, right?" Jonathan asked as he shooed the Tribble and D.C. to the floor.

"Yes," Daniel replied, appearing with the coffee. "Good morning, my dear. Jonathan."

"Morning, thanks," Jonathan said.

There was a knock that did not seem to be coming from the door. "Might I chap come in, or am I too early?" Dash's voice called.

"Come on in," Carolyn answered, looking around.

Their friend appeared. "Good morning, family."

"What brings you here so early?" the Captain asked.

"Coffee, Dash? Or tea?" Carolyn inquired.

"Tea, if you have it. Thank you, dear lady. Welcome back, Jon. In answer to your query, Danny, I had an epiphany last night."

"Isn't that after Christmas?" Jonathan frowned.

"A metaphorical one, then," Dash shook his head. "I realized that it IS almost Christmas."

"I could have told you that. Mind slipping in your old age?" Daniel smirked.

"Ha. There is a difference between knowing the date and KNOWING the date," the second ghost clarified. "It became real on the second high note of Sean's solo. You missed an excellent show, Jonathan."

"I couldn't leave until late yesterday," the young man shrugged. "Grades were given out Saturday, and I had to finish packing. Then, Sunday, there was the house Christmas party in the afternoon. No, I did not touch the liquor. Knew I was driving home."

"Good lad," Daniel nodded.

"You got your grades?" Carolyn prompted, her brows raised.

"Jacket pocket," Jon said glumly.

The article of clothing drifted over to his mother and the sheet in question floated out of the pocket. Carolyn thanked Daniel and took the paper from the air. "You got a B in English. I thought you said you expected a D, a C at best?"

Now, Jon grinned. "Well, I did have a good tutor, and worked hard."

"What was the downcast look for?" Dash probed. "A "B" is not for bad, I trust? I thought it was the second highest grade."

"It's an old trick of his," Daniel smiled paternally. "The moment I saw it, I knew we had nothing to worry about."

"Tutor?" Dash continued. "Oh, that pretty girl who drove you home in September. How is she?"

Looking puzzled, Jonathan shook his head. "Okay, I guess. Said something about not being thrilled to go home this year. Her third step-mother was planning some elaborate shindig and her step-dad was taking her mother on a cruise, so she wouldn't see her mom."

"That's a shame," Carolyn said.

"You should have invited her to come with you," Dash said.

"Why?" Jon blinked owlishly.

Scratching his ear, Daniel took the conversation back over, "So, you had an epiphany?"

"Ah, yes," the nobleman allowed himself to be distracted. "I need a mother's input on what Candy might enjoy for Christmas. I'm rather annoyed with Thom. He is completely unhelpful as to what his mother and or wife would like. So, suggestions there would be welcome."

"Candy has not mentioned anything," Carolyn said. "Nor has Lynne."

"Nor have you, Madam," Daniel reminded her.

"Or you," she smiled back.

"No one wants anything," Jonathan suggested.

"You are all most uncooperative," Dash informed them.

"You would think that a man who had five daughters, a mother, and a wife would have better insight into female psychology," Daniel commented.

"Don't look at me," Jonathan said.

"You might look at me," Carolyn said.

"Gladly, however, Danny might take issue," Dash easily replied.

"It has been a while since we had a duel," Daniel noted.

"You can fight, or you can listen," Mrs. Gregg said.

"I'd listen," Jon suggested.

"Excellent plan," the Captain agreed.

"Say on," Dash nodded.

"It seems to me, from what Jess and Barnaby have said, that you have already given Lynne what she wants." Carolyn paused. "And, she has given you the same gift. Unfortunately, neither will fit in a box, and you can't wrap or be-ribbon it."

Dash blinked.

"Oh, come on. Jess has said her sister is more like herself than she has been in over twenty years! And, you do seem much perkier than you have since I've known you," Carolyn explained in exasperation. "Ever since you two started not-dating."

"She has a point," Daniel nodded.

"Perkier? I sound like a coffee pot," Dash grumbled.

"Good idea. Who wants breakfast? I'm cooking," Jon said, getting up and heading toward the kitchen.

"Toast for me," Carolyn replied. "And more coffee."

"I'm a decent cook. Have to be, as a survival issue at school," Jonathan protested.

"You should know, by now, that getting her to have the toast is doing well, mate," Daniel admonished.

"Okay, okay. You guys?"

"Not now," the ghosts said in unison.

As the boy walked out, the Captain stroked his beard. "You know, by all that is right and proper, Carolyn, Adam, Jess, and I should be after you with all diligence to marry that woman. I am certain Ed and Martha would help."

"Not one of you did anything you did not want to do," Dash protested. "If I urged you to do what was best for all concerned, that is nothing to incite reprisal."

"Did I say I wanted revenge upon you, my friend?" Daniel asked. "We merely would be thanking you for your wise counsel. Trying to make sure you are as happy as we are."

"I am very happy. It was obvious that you and Carolyn here were meant to be, and the same can be said of Adam and Jess, once their spatting turned a little friendlier. I was not the one who shoved their lips together."

"This is true," Carolyn said. "And Martha and Ed?"

"Less obvious, but Martha seemed to have her cap set for him, and I thought she deserved happiness."

"So do you, Dash," Carolyn stated firmly.

"We argue constantly," Dash pointed out.

"We did our fair share," Daniel smirked.

"Furthermore, I do not want to leave my home," Dash noted. "I can hardly ask her to move in with her son and his wife, especially when her practice is here. I doubt Thom or Candy would be delighted at the notion either. Secondly, and before you say it, of course Adam has influenced me, what would we do with Siegfried? He's a capital fellow, but I do not want to live with him. Haunt with him. Whatever you call it."

"You've given this some thought," the Captain observed.

"I — those are reasons that are so elementary, my dear Captain, that it takes no thought to arrive at them," Dashire insisted. "I've forgotten, why did I drop by?"

"Christmas ideas," Carolyn obliged.

"Ah, right, and we got off on this romance — nonsense. If you are going to match up someone, there's Sig and Bronwyn, or Blackie has barely dated anyone. Not that I can think of a good candidate for him, but it bears thought. It would take someone made of stern stuff, preacher's wife is a demanding role. Hmm."

"I thought you had both..." Carolyn began.

"There are more problems than can be solved in the matter," Dash answered, a little sadly. "But, that doesn't mean I can find her a nice gift. However, not only is Thom unhelpful, but the notion of his mother dating, er — not dating, oh, you know what I mean, seems to make him uncomfortable, despite his best efforts for it not to. Which is another problem. As I do not wish to be evicted, I am not pestering him too much."

"If you were evicted, that would resolve one of the problems you mentioned," Carolyn remarked.

"Yes, but Sig is not a good pet," Dash countered.

"Honestly, I have no idea what to suggest," Mrs. Gregg said.

"Do not look at me. Deciphering one female mind is quite enough of a challenge," Daniel said, holding up his hands.

"Maybe Jess or Blackie could help?" Carolyn offered.

"I will speak to them," Dash sighed.

After his lordship left, Carolyn looked at her husband. "He brings up a good point, you know. I never know what to get you for anything, Christmas, birthday, Valentine's Day, Father's Day, Groundhog Day..."

"Groundhog Day?" the Captain blinked.

"Artistic hyperbole," Carolyn defended herself.

"Simply the fact that I have reasons to celebrate those days, except perhaps the last," the ghost said, "is a gift."

"I still want to find the perfect gift for you," Mrs. Gregg grumbled under her breath. "And one day, I will."

"Madam," Daniel advised, "Take your own counsel to heart."

"He's got you there, Mom," Jonathan said. "Even if it is mushy."

"Some day, you will not mind the mush," Carolyn said.

The boy just shrugged.

December 19

The play that Bronwyn, with Carolyn's help, had written for Blackie's children's church program was a resounding success. Of course, there were a few goofs, but those just added a specialness to the production.

Afterward, the family met back home to celebrate one more success.

"This was so sweet; I hope you'll repeat it when Amberly and Baby Pierce over there are old enough to participate," Candy told her cousin-in-law and Bronwyn.

"I'm sure we will do something," the lady ghost said. "Maybe we can come up with a — stable — of children's plays to rotate and keep fresh."

"Sounds like my brother's turn of phrase has begun to infect you," Tristan commented. "Stable?"

"For want of a better term," she sniffed.

"If you really had time travelers in the house yesterday, Blackwood," Adam said, "why did you not think to ask whether I'm having a son or a daughter?"

"Because it would have caused some kind of chronomental disruption, I am certain," Blackie said. "And, if you don't believe me, which you should, I am a pastor, after all, ask Carolyn, Lynne, Dash, Daniel, or Jenny. They are all as honest as the day is long."

"I have to agree, it is far-fetched," Thom said. "Sorry, Mom, everyone. But, it is."

"Really?" Dash drawled, fading from view momentarily. "I never thought of that, did you, Captain?"

"Certainly not," Daniel agreed, shifting his face between Daniel Miles and Gregg as he spoke.

"Oh, stop it," Claymore groused. "Did you get stock tips?"

"See prior answer," Blackie replied.

"What would it hurt if I were a rich man?" Claymore asked.

"No, we are NOT performing _Fiddler on the Roof_," Bronwyn informed him. "And, have you never heard that killing a butterfly here could cause a storm on the other side of the world, or perhaps another planet, as the case may be?"

"Huh?" Claymore frowned. "How would that happen?"

"I do not know, but it might," she answered.

"Right. For example, say — Miss X hates the color — yellow. She goes out and sees a nice guy, but does not pay him any mind because he is wearing yellow and it hurts her eyes to look at him. He's leaving town because he has no reason to stay, but would have a reason if they had talked, and later, they would have married. Their child would discover the cure to some disease, saving hundreds of lives, and one of those lives saved invents a product that revolutionizes the world, and you would have invested in it, and made a mint. So, one small action, the wearing of yellow, prevents you from having a fortune."

"Another fortune. He IS rich," Daniel pointed out. "Thanks to me," he added in an undertone."

"How awful. No one wear yellow again, ever!" Claymore demanded dramatically.

After the laughter that his comment incited died down, Martha turned to Blackie, Lynne, and Carolyn. "Okay, you say you invited those two over for Christmas. Since I'm in charge of the kitchen, I'd like to know what aliens eat."

"One alien. Rose is from England," Blackie said. "I don't think the English eat anything different from Americans."

"I know how to cook for the English," Martha said dryly, glancing at Dash.

"Indeed you do, my good woman. Admirably. Let me count the ways."

"Cool it," Ed said. "I already married her."

"Does not hurt to remind you that you have a true gem," Dash grinned.

"What about aliens?" Martha asked again, flushing slightly at the praise as she did.

"I didn't feed him," Blackie admitted.

"Good thing. We'd have our first interplanetary war after you poisoned him with YOUR cooking," Thom said.

"He looked human," Jenny said. "So, I guess, normal stuff."

"I would think if he had a special diet, he'd have said so," Lynne agreed. "At least after the invitation was issued. Something like, 'we might come, but I only eat weeds, rocks, and string'?"

"And, we don't know if they will come," Carolyn noted.

"Well, I guess if Martians, or whatever, eat paper, plastic, and wire, we can just save the wrappings Christmas morning," Martha concluded.

"I'm still waiting for the 'gotcha' when you all reveal you are pulling our collective legs," Adam said.

"If we were going to do that, wouldn't we have done it just after Paul Wilkie ran around here?" Carolyn asked.

"Oh, I don't know," Tristan said thoughtfully. "It would be expected then. Waiting makes it more of a surprise. There is an art to a joke. However, given that it is you six making this statement, I would guess it is apt to be true. If I were saying it, there would be room for the belief that it was an elaborate prank."

"Sweetie, just be cool about it," Jess said. "They sound like nice aliens, if they are real. If they aren't why worry?"

"That's what I said about Captain Gregg before I knew him!" Candy said.

"That's where I got the idea," Jess smiled. "Moms are great for telling stories about their kids."

"Tell me about it," Jon muttered.

"As it is thirty degrees outside, what choice do I have but to be cool?" Adam asked.

"I hope it's true," Dave said. "I mean, come on, you guys who aren't big sci-fi fans, except for Jenny, get to see a spaceship, and I didn't."

Adam frowned deeply. "Okay, I will grant that it probably true, given the witnesses. It's still mindbending."

"Like life itself isn't?" Candy asked.

"And, I would still like to know what we're having, a son or daughter? It would have been kind of one of you to ask," he went on.

"I want to be surprised," Jess sighed.

"Oh, Adam, I can tell you now the answer to that," Lynne said.

"SIS! I just said — "

"The answer is yes. You will have a son or a daughter," the doctor matter-of-factly replied over her sister's yelp.

Monday, December 20

After Daniel and Jonathan left on a father/son outing, Carolyn called Sean over to Gull Cottage.

"What can I do for you, Carrie?" the Irishman asked.

"Can't I invite a friend over with no ulterior motive?" she returned.

"Aye, but ye have a look about you that says you do have one," he nodded easily.

Grimacing slightly, she confessed, "Okay, you caught me. It is almost Christmas..."

"Really?"

"And, to be honest, I'm not too happy with what I've found for anyone this year, except Amberly. Little girls are easy."

Her husband's oldest friend shrugged. "I suppose."

"Is there anything you know of that Molly, Daniel, or Dash would especially like? Or you, for that matter? I don't know why this year is being so hard to figure out, but it is."

"Honestly, I have no idea. I do know that Danny has treasured every gift you've ever given him. You could give him a cardboard box and he would love it."

"Oh, I know that. One of Jonathan's art projects in school was essentially that, and when he gave it to the Captain, it was elevated to something more. He had the parenting down cold long before it was official."

"And, Dash, Molly, and I are easily pleased as well," he assured her. "I don't suppose you have any wants you've not stated?"

"No."

"Fair's fair, Carrie," he remarked. "Answer for answer."

"Can I plead the fifth?"

"What do you think?"

Making a face, she did stick her tongue out at him, covering her disappointment that he had not confided his distress.

XXX

The week flew by as last minute preparations for Christmas fell into place. On Christmas Eve, when they came to Schooner Bay for the candlelight service, Adam and Jess spent the night with Sean and Molly, while Candy and Thom moved into Lynne's spare room. The pets, BJ and Jellicle, were left at Gull Cottage. Dash had meant to spend the night alone at his house, but an hour after church ended, he appeared at Martha's. The old place was just too empty without the family he had gotten accustomed to having there in it. Though Ed pretended to be grumpy about letting that "high falutin' ghost" in the house, they all knew he was putting on a show.

On Christmas morning, a chain of vehicles made their way to Gull Cottage in time for breakfast.

"I can not believe I stayed up until eleven and am now up before seven," Adam grumbled slightly as he led Jess up the icy walk.

"Get used to early mornings and late nights," Jenny suggested. Then, she smiled over at where her daughter was trying to wiggle out of Dave's arms so she could walk. "But, it's worth it."

"Until they kick you in the stomach," he sighed.

"Better on the outside than from within," Jess responded, with a slightly pained expression.

Daniel threw open the front door. "Merry Christmas!"

Within an hour, the cottage was filled with the ghosts, humans, and animals. Dakota seemed delighted to have all her kittens back home again.

"We oughta have a birthday cake for T.J., D.C, Tribble, Jellicle, and — wasn't B.J. a Christmas present?" Jonathan announced as he took his breakfast plate.

"You just look for any excuse for a cake," Martha retorted. "And, I'm sure all five of those critters were born before Christmas."

"Can you blame the boy for wanting your cake, Martha?" Dash asked beguilingly. "There is a tradition of making one for the Christ child, you know."

"You're as bad as he is," she shook her head.

"I want to know when the alien is going to arrive," Dave said. "And, how long before we can open gifts?"

Daniel lifted one elegant brow. "After breakfast. I thought you were a little — tall — to be so anxious."

"He means old," Thom said.

"You aren't that much younger than I," Dave retorted. "And, it's not that I'm looking for 'Santa'. I have a gift I'm eager to give."

"So, eat fast," Tristan suggested, looking quite pleased as well.

"You know what it is?" Carolyn asked.

"Of course, Mrs. Captain."

"So do I," Jenny added, eyes sparkling.

Carolyn looked from one to the other of the three young people. "Something for Amberly?"

"No, though I do think we found some neat things for her. She's not really old enough to be hyped over Santa, yet," Jenny said, clearly a little disappointed by that.

"Tell her to hurry up and GET old enough for me to give that promised Barbie," Adam said.

"It's not the Barbie I mind, it's her wardrobe, friends, family, and neighborhood's worth of real estate," Dave replied.

"That is what you have a large, extended family for," Molly smiled.

"And they will help put together the stuff with tiny parts and directions written in code?" the young father asked.

"Of course they will," Bronwyn said, glancing at the Matthews brothers with a "say yes or I will re-kill you" stare.

"Absolutely,mydearfellow. In due time."

"I'll keep the lye soap handy to wash out their mouths at that due time," Martha said.

Finally, breakfast was over and, with ghostly dexterity employed, the dishes done.

"Go ahead, Dave," Carolyn said.

Grinning broadly, he went to the stockings and pulled out the one labeled "Sean," startling more than one person.

Blinking, the ghost took it and fished inside to find an envelope. He unfolded it silently.

"Sean? Darlin', what does it say?" Molly asked.

"I — my book ... It's been — accepted. How?" He turned a puzzled, green stare onto Dave, Jenny, and Tris.

"Well, Molly told me what happened," Jenny said, "and I told Dave, and he got Tristan to get a copy of it. After he read it, he knew which publisher was looking for that sort of book, and submitted it."

"After that, voila!" Tristan beamed, throwing his arms out wide.

Swallowing, Sean said, "Thank ye, all of ye." He rose and hugged Molly tightly. "I wish yer Da could see this. He never thought I was good enough for ye, really."

"Sean, no father believes any young man is good enough for his daughter, initially at least," Daniel said. "I believe it is an unwritten rule."

"He came to accept that I loved ye, and that my opinion counted for something," Molly smiled gently.

"Most of us do get over the feeling," Daniel added.

"Well, I think you have conquered my dad's doubts," Carolyn beamed. "I'm dying to see what sort of antique whatnot he and Mom picked out for you." She gestured at the unwieldy looking box addressed to him.

Grinning, the ghost opened it. "I haven't seen one of these in ages," he commented neutrally.

"What is it?" Candy asked bluntly.

"A butter press."

"Seems like it'd be messy to iron butter," Jonathan frowned.

Giggling, Jess, the history teacher, explained, "It made the butter from a churn look — prettier than just being a glop. Butter mold might be a better word."

"Butter. How I miss that," Claymore sighed.

Before Lynne could scold on reflex, Fontenot asked, "So, you want my lessons as your next year's Christmas present, Claymore? We'll turn you into a fine ghost, after some INTENSIVE training."

"Erk. On second thought, I really never liked butter. It costs too much." However, Claymore did look cheered by the expression of concern for his well-being.

"Open your gift from me, Doctor," Dash suggested, crossing to the tree and picking up an oblong box. He would have floated it over, but he, like the other ghosts, was trying to not do that sort of thing in front of the baby.

As over a dozen pairs of eyes turned to observe, Lynne flushed and shifted uncomfortably. "You shouldn't have," she muttered, picking at the taped edges gingerly, trying to unwrap it in a ladylike fashion.

"Why do females not just tear into paper?" Daniel wondered aloud.

"We like to make the experience last a long time," his wife replied.

Shaking his head, the Captain sighed, "Female. Eternally female."

"Thank goodness for that!" Adam remarked.

After a few more moments of work, Lynne withdrew an orange box. Puzzled, she looked at it, frowning. "Uh — thanks."

"It's dates," Dash said. "You eat them."

"O-o-kay. That's — nice," the doctor struggled to think of something to say that made her sound pleased, not befuddled.

Apparently ignorant of her bemusement, Dash happily continued to speak. "You see, we never have gone out on a first date, much less second, third, etcetera."

Linden nodded, not sure where he was going with this.

"And, you are a nice lady, the sort who would never kiss a fellow good night on the first date. Therefore, you have the first date there in your hand, and we can perhaps move on to the second some time in the near future."

Her pink cheeks darkening to red, Lynne was forced to laugh. Placing one finger on her temple, she had to admit, "You put a lot of thought into that."

"Well, no one was at all helpful in deciding what to get you. However, there is something taped to the bottom of that box. You might want to take a look."

Obediently, she turned the date package over to see a golden **L** charm on a chain taped to it. "Thank you."

The unwrapping took quite a while, as everyone wanted to observe everyone else's reactions to various gifts. Amberly did seem to understand that something special was happening and enjoy it, even if she didn't fully get what was going on, just yet. Jonathan had decided it was time his step-dad get a modern gift, so Daniel was making good use of the one-step camera the boy had given him and the film Candy had provided to go with it. He was also thrilled with the Cross pen and pencil that Carolyn gave him; she was equally delighted with the starburst pendant Daniel gave her, symbolizing that she was the star in his sky. The two dogs and cats nearly drove Martha insane grabbing bits of paper and tissue to chew or having tugs-of-war with ribbons.

"If you'll take Amberly into another room, we can clean that up in a trice," Fontenot suggested after the older lady had risen for the third time to try and stop B.J. from tearing up a strip of wrapping paper.

"Rob, handle them," Bronwyn instructed at the same time.

As Sig obeyed, Tristan shook his head. "Amazing. Simply amazing."

"I think we are too late," Daniel said. "I tell you, the way the child looks at the crew, she knows already."

"Darling, we know she is intelligent, and it IS obvious how special you all are," Carolyn laughed. In a lower tone, she whispered for his hearing only, "And, you are magnificent. Any woman, no matter what age, can see that. I can't blame her for looking at you intently."

The ghost looked smug. "I am most gratified to know that you appreciate the treasure you have in me, my dear." If he hadn't chuckled at her and winked, it might have seemed an unbearably arrogant statement, albeit true.

After the clean up, several of the guys went to work on assembling things that needed it, or playing with various gifts. Those musically inclined kept live music going, off and on. Since there was the chance that there would be a couple of extra guests, dinner was delayed until later. Besides, if anyone got really hungry, they knew where the kitchen was and could find something on which to snack.

When it was too late to really consider a meal lunch, but too early for dinner, Jon suggested, "Could someone please just say the joke's over? Breakfast was ages ago."

"Yeah, what he said," Claymore agreed.

"It is not a joke," Lynne said.

"Maybe they had to save the world or something?" Blackie sighed.

"If that's permission to get things in the last stages to serve, then I'll get to it," Martha said, rising from the piano, where she had been providing accompaniment for Candy and Dave's caroling. "Molly, would you take this over?"

"I'll set the table," Barnaby offered.

By the time the meal finished cooking and Martha had put her helpers to work getting things to the table, there was a knock at the door. Half hoping, Carolyn answered it, a grin blossoming on her face as she did so.

"We didn't hear the TARDIS land! Did you put a muffler on it?"

"Parked down the beach a ways," Rose Tyler volunteered. Jerking her thumb at the grinning man beside her, she added, "Thought it'd be more of a surprise for ya. Hope we aren't late. It IS still Christmas, yeah?"

Mrs. Gregg nodded as she stepped aside to let them inside.

"If we were late, it would be your fault, Rose," the Doctor informed her, wagging one long finger in her face. "You said we had to shop first."

"It IS Christmas!" the girl reminded him. "Could be worse. Mum coulda been in charge. We'd still be at the mall."

"M- A- U- L, you mean?"

The travelers followed Carolyn into the living room, sidestepping being under the mistletoe hanging over the entry.

"Blast, it's a shame I didn't bet someone on this," Blackie smirked, giving Adam a sidelong glance. Getting to his feet, he started to make introductions, but the Doctor held up a hand.

"No, no. Let me guess." Still with a grin on his face, the Time Lord rattled off the who's who of the Gregg clan without missing one, concluding with, "And I'm the Doctor, and she is Rose Tyler."

"And you are from outer space and the future, respectively?" Adam asked, shifting into lawyer mode slightly.

"Yes, though most recently, we were in the past," the Doctor beamed. "Which reminds me, we come bearing gifts." Reaching into a pocket too small to hold much, he withdrew several packages.

"Are your pockets like tiny Tardises? Tardi?" Jenny asked.

"Sort of, yeah," was the response as Tristan took his and Siegfried's joint gift.

"Go on, open it," the Doctor urged when the two brothers hesitated.

"It won't explode, or anything?" Siegfried asked.

"Oh, no. Of course not. I don't travel with anyone who likes to blow up things, any longer," the man nodded. "That was Ace, not Rose."

Tristan ripped away the paper, much to Sig's annoyance. He was in the group of people who liked to carefully unwrap things. Before he could chastise Tris, however, a package of photos was in the younger ghost's hands.

"Issy?" he breathed.

"And those are her children," Siegfried said. "That next one is her grandchildren. Those are in color, and do not appear to be falling to pieces..." Looking up sharply, he asked, "How did you get those? And in that form?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Time machine. Just went back in it with a modern camera and presto. Pictures of the nieces and nephews you either haven't seen, or seen in ages."

Dash ripped open his gift eagerly as the explanation was given. "I never did see Victoria or Arthur's children .. until now. There's no one else these pictures could be. The lad there is the image of me at that age, and the girl has my eyes, but the rest of her face is — her grandmother's. " His voice was choked with emotion as he showed his gift to Lynne.

"I have to admit, it was Rose's idea. Figuring out what to get a ghost is not easy. Even for a genius."

Without missing a beat, Adam quipped, "I have noticed that over the years, haven't you, Carolyn?"

"Yes," she agreed.

"Let me see those," Dave implored Tris. "I'd like to know — "

"So would I," Bronwyn chimed in.

Jenny was already there. "Yes, Isolde's little girl could be Amberly's sister."

"I wasn'tsureifmymemorywastrueonthatpoint," Siegfried mumbled.

At any other time, Tris would have been across the room, hunting a pen and pencil to write down that his brother had admitted to a flawed or fuzzy recollection, but seeing his twin's children was more important.

"They did name her oldest boy after you, you know," Siegfried frowned, trying to hide the depth of emotion. "Ponderous name. Tristan Siegfried Ultan. All of us in one breath."

For long minutes, the room was silent, except for the occasional exclamation as each ghost opened the photos of their long gone loved ones; Sean's foster-father, Molly's parents, the rest of Dash's grandchildren, Aunt Violet, Fontenot's many grandchildren, and Bronwyn's parents. Thom and Lynne got to see a snapshot of Alan Avery taken hours before he was shot.

"You couldn't have warned him, I guess?" Thom asked slowly.

"Not without destroying the space time continuum and unleashing unholy heck," the Doctor admitted.

"Trust me, it's so not worth it," Rose muttered in a tone that said she spoke absolute truth.

"So not?" Jonathan frowned. He hadn't stopped staring at the girl from another time since she'd come into the cottage.

"Turn of phrase in about twenty years, Rose's time," the Doctor said. "Don't use it now. Wait until you're about — forty. Now it's just bad grammar."

Candy's lips quirked as she saw her brother's crestfallen face. Her eyes cut over to their guests. She only had a hundred things she would like to ask, if she could find words to ask, and the right place, away from the crowd. Inadvertently, her gaze slipped over to two of the young men in the room.

Perhaps aliens could sense a look the way humans can feel touch. The Doctor looked at her, then stepped over and whispered, "It all turns out okay. But I won't say more."

Reddening, the young woman asked, "Really? For — all of us?"

"For all of you. Eventually." The look on his face was kind. "I can't tell you more. Even if it is all determined, as long as you don't know the last page, you have free will. I can't say there won't be tears, but in the end, it works out."

"You sound like Blackie."

Inclining his head, the Doctor shrugged. "Wellll, there's worse people to sound like. I could sound like my sixth self, or — that hatchet faced guy in _Star Wars — _the first one, I mean the fourth one that was the first one, or — "

Candy laughed. "Point taken."

"Well, that's not your gift." He patted his pockets. "Ah, here it is. Your mother always wished your great-aunt Tilly hadn't lost these, so she could give them to you. I found them."

Candy opened the box to find a pair of earrings almost identical to the ones her mom liked to wear for the Captain. "Aunt Tilly and Great-Grandmother were sisters, and had matching earrings, but hers disappeared."

"They undisappeared. No, that's not a word. Should be." His expressive face contorted as he thought. "No, it IS a word on — that planet in the Delta sector of Andromeda. Doesn't sound like that, of course, but the meaning's there."

"Thank — " she started, but he was across the room again. He didn't stay still very well, she reflected as she poked the gold dangles into her ears.

"This is autographed to ME, personally, from William Holden!" Martha exclaimed.

"He was more approachable than that other fellow you like," the Doctor shrugged. "The swashbuckler."

Over the course of the next hour or two, the Doctor found himself taken aside at every opportunity. First, Jess brought him a cookie. After shooing B.J., who thought that cookie meant treat, she squirmed and shifted, then blurted, "Uh, Doctor, I was wondering..."

"No, and thank you," he said firmly, taking the jingle bell shaped sweet.

"Oh, my — " the teacher turned pale as if she had suddenly become a ghost on a bad day.

The Doctor looked alarmed. "What did I say? Is knowing whether Junior is a boy or girl THAT important?"

Jess shook her head. "No. I don't care about that. I mean, I care, but it's not terribly important. What I wanted to know, look, I'm not ancient, but most women are younger when they endure this." She pointed at her stomach ruefully. "So, will Baby be okay, and will I?"

"I shouldn't," he sighed. "But, you will worry for the next five months, and probably alter the intended results of your pregnancy by worrying yourself and the child sick, so all I will say is you do not need to worry."

"We will be okay?"

"I will not tell you anything definite, but it might be a safe assumption."

"I'll take that as fairly definite," she smiled.

"Take it as you will."

A few minutes later, Adam found his way over. "So, now that I am convinced you are really what Blackie says you are..."

"John Adams was a good man, but yeah, he was obnoxious and disliked by a lot of people."

"I knew that," Adam snorted.

"I already told Jessamyn that she does not need to worry. Nor do you, and I hate repeating myself," the alien tried to head off the question.

"Good. Now, my second question is, boy or girl?" Adam grinned.

The Doctor set down his tea and put his head in his hands. "You are asking me to monkey with the space and time continuum and violate at least ten different rules set down by the founders of Gallifreyan society, many years in the past. But, you are a nice guy. So, I will tell you this, although you do know the important part already. You will definitely have..."

"Boy or girl?" the attorney prompted when there was a hesitation.

"Yes. You will have a boy or girl, not a — a — Boe."

"A bow?" Adam frowned, momentarily distracted.

"B - O - E. Large, telepathic, face people. You won't have one."

"I think I knew that," Adam noted sarcastically. "And Lynne already gave me that smart-alecky you will have a son or daughter line."

"You weren't sure? Go talk to your sister-in-law. She's a smart lady. For a human. Basic bird and bee stuff. Impossible for a human to have an alien baby, despite the rumors on the supermarket scandal sheets." With that, he was off across the room again.

Adam shook his head slowly.

After a while, Dash drifted over to where Candy and Molly were playing the guitar and piano, respectively, and Lynne and Rose were singing carols, among other things. The ghost smiled. He was delighted that the good doctor had relaxed enough to share her talent. As unobtrusively as possible, he moved closer.

"Come join us, Uncle Dash," Candy prompted.

Lynne broke off abruptly.

"I fear my talents do not run to song," the nobleman smiled. "Get your dad over here, or Sean, if you need a male voice."

"If Sean and Molly started singing, no one else would, we'd just all listen," Candy grinned.

"Go on with ye," Molly chided gently.

"Then, keep up the good work, Rose, Lynne," Dash urged.

"I — my throat's dry," Lynne muttered. "Anyone else want tea, coffee, or whatever?" Seeing the smirk starting to form on Dash's lips, she added, "To drink?"

"I'm good," Rose said. Ghosts were no where nearly as unusual as some of the things she had seen in the last year, but she was rather amazed at how many things she took for granted simply were not in Gull Cottage. No computer. The phone was corded. No cell phone. If they wanted popcorn, they had to make it the long way, and there wasn't even a VCR, much less a DVD player.

Dash blinked, then remarked, "That is always the best thing to be on Christmas. Never know when Santa is looking in."

Candy and Molly exchanged glances at the unfamiliar usage, then shrugged. "I need nothing, Linden," Molly said.

"Ditto. Thanks."

After she left, no one started the music again, so Dash took a seat on the bench beside Molly. "Well, Rose, how are things going since we last saw you?"

The girl shrugged. "Helter-skelter. You wouldn't believe half of what I could tell you. It's always something new."

"And you and the young fellow are getting on well?"

Candy rolled her eyes. Even if Rose and the Doctor were not a couple, if they hung around her mom and "uncle" too long, they might as well give up and be one. Both of them LOVED to match-make.

Ignorant of this, Rose shoved her hair out of her eyes and replied, "Yeah. I think Mum likes this version better than my Doctor. She didn't slap 'im."

"That is an improvement, to be sure," Dash allowed. "And you?"

Rose glanced across the room. Seeing that the Doctor was discussing something with Carolyn, she admitted, "I like 'im, but...I miss who 'e used to be. The first Doctor, the one I knew, never said anything, but I could tell that...you know? Like that song says. But, this one, we're friends. I think that's all."

"What song?" Molly asked.

"Oh. Er, I guess it hasn't come out yet," Rose flushed. "Sorry. You'd sing it really well, I know. If it existed yet. Recent past's harder to remember what has and hasn't happened yet than if we go back a hundred years or so."

"That makes perfect sense," Dash agreed. "Ah, I wondered how long it would take that to happen."

The three women turned to follow his gaze.

Claymore had sidled over to Carolyn and the Doctor. It did not take much imagination to know what he had to be asking.

Daniel noticed as well. With a sigh, he popped over to appear right beside his supposed nephew.

"What are you doing? Bothering our guest?" the Captain snapped.

"Erawak. Oh. No, no. I was just wondering what stocks will be hot in say — five years?"

"I can not tell you — any of you the future," the Doctor insisted, running a hand back through his hair. "No. I will not do it."

Claymore's face fell, then lit again. "That's fine. Just — could I take a little trip in the machine? The tardy one? Not to the future. To the past."

"The past?" Carolyn asked.

"YOU WILL NOT find proof that we are related, you — tightwad," Daniel bit out.

"None you'll accept anyway. I just thought...I know what is valuable now. It's like that scrimshaw. I could grab a ton of it for nothing and — "

"No," three voices chorused.

"But... but... " Claymore stammered.

"You blasted, money-grubbing manta," Daniel seethed, "stop trying to turn a blasted fast dollar for at least Christmas!"

"But, Uncle!"

"Blast it, I am not your uncle!" Through all this, Daniel's voice remained low, but his words had enough power to hit Claymore like a shout.

"Good thing K-9 isn't here," the Doctor noted wryly, rocking on his heels. "You'd have a Swiss-cheesed wall after three blasts. Very literal minded he was."

"Canine? There's Dakota, and J.B.," Claymore frowned.

"B.J.," Daniel corrected.

"No, no, no. The letter K dash the number nine. My robot, well, used to be my, robot dog. I had — one, two, three of them. Excellent creatures. Very handy, but you have to watch what you say around them, rather like a baby, I suppose," the Doctor explained.

"Can we see it?" Carolyn asked.

At the same moment, Claymore's ears perked up. "Oh? Now, that sounds like something that could catch on..."

Pointing a finger at Claymore, the Doctor said, "No. Earth technology will not be able to make something as sophisticated as K-9 for several more centuries. And, two of them were on my planet when it..." he trailed off unhappily. "One is with my former companion, Sarah Jane Smith. Or will be. I'm not sure if I have left it with her yet." Shaking his head, the young looking man sighed, "That's one problem with time travel. You never know whether you have done what you've done, or if you will do it yet."

"If you haven't done it yet, could I just get a peek?" Claymore wheedled. "And, do you have robot birds, too?"

Daniel gave his wife a weary look as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No on both scores. You see, it is part of my past, but it might not have happened yet in your time, see?" the Time Lord tried to explain.

Claymore's brow furrowed. "I don't understand."

Though Daniel would not admit it, he could empathize, just a little.

It wasn't long before those who had not met the Doctor and Rose insisted on seeing the Tardis.

"I thought it was a ship," Sean said as they drew near the blue phone booth parked on the beach.

"Doesn't look seaworthy," Tristan agreed. "Or very big." He looked over at Rose and the Doctor, trying to figure how two people would fit in it. It looked to tight a fit for the Doctor, skinny as he was even, to travel far, if it moved.

"Don't speak too fast," Jenny smirked.

"And, it is quite watertight. I know. It sank at least once," the Doctor admitted, throwing open the door. "Come on in."

Following Daniel's lead, everyone stepped in, albeit doubtfully.

"Good grief!" Martha gasped. "Now, why can't we have at least ONE closet like this. Nothing would ever get smushed again."

"Show me how to make it, and I'll build it," Ed said.

"I'd like to have a dorm room like this, not just a closet," Jon said, eyes wide.

"Could use some work on the decor," Tristan remarked.

"If you ever have one, you can decorate as you like," the Doctor returned.

"That reminds me," Jess said. "Tris, I need to talk to you about that sort of thing, for the kid."

"Ahem," Dash said.

"We take all volunteers," Adam placated.

"This is incredible," Dave said. "You have to admit that, Tris."

"Oh, certainly. The color scheme is just not what I'd want to live in," he said.

"Nothing to say, Rob?" Bronwyn asked Siegfried.

"For once, my dear, no. I'm quite — awestruck. Words do not begin to describe it," Siegfried said slowly.

"Aye," Molly breathed as they were lead through the timeship.

"You know, I feel bad that we didn't know what to get for you, for Christmas," Carolyn said after the tour.

"Oh, you have most certainly," the Doctor assured her. "In the year Rose has been with me, this is our third Christmas, and this is the first one in which she has not had to help save the world or run for her life."

"You could say that saving the world is what Christmas is all about," Blackie grinned.

"True, but the celebrants are not supposed to do it," Thom pointed out. "See, I do listen. I don't nap through sermons."

"It is good to have a normal Christmas," Rose agreed. "Once in a while."

Carolyn was not alone in thinking that not many people would consider a Christmas with ghosts normal.

"However," the Doctor said, "if you really want to do something for me. I have been kicking my last self mentally for not getting Charlie boy's autograph when I had the chance. Dickens, that is, not you, your lordship. There are so many writers here, could I prevail on you to sign a few of your works?"

"Gladly," the Captain smiled.

"And, I do have a program from one of your plays, Bronwyn..."

"Yes, certainly," she agreed.

The Doctor disappeared down a corridor. A moment later, he called, "Rose, a hand please."

Minutes later, they returned, laden with books, programs, and plastic cases that looked like they held miniature records.

Daniel, Carolyn, and Jenny each took a book. To their surprise, Adam was handed a brief that he would eventually write, Blackie a book of his collected sermons, and Martha, a recipe book. Then, he handed Sean a novel.

"It is real, then," the Irish ghost murmured as he scrawled his name across the book that hadn't been published yet in his time.

"Now, the CD's," the alien beamed.

"We're on money?" Carolyn asked. Claymore looked more impressed than confused at this.

"Er — no. Molly, Tris, you have a future, someday, in music, though I won't say when," the Doctor looked chagrined. "Just, forget that, until the right time. But, would you mind signing the covers? CD's will replace records, fairly soon. Forget that, too, why don't you?"

"CD's will play music?" Claymore frowned. "But — "

"It means compact disk," Rose stage whispered. "Never mind. It'll make sense when it happens."

"Compact disk. Hmm," Claymore mused. "How compact? What—?"

"No means no, Claymore," the Doctor insisted. "I am so glad we didn't bring Mickey along. One is enough," he added in an undertone.

"One what?" the Captain, who was standing nearest to their guests, asked.

"Idiot."

"You are sure you don't need a spare?" the ghost offered.

"Completely."

"I CAN make him not think about any hints of the future you implied," Daniel offered reluctantly. He truly did not like to tamper with anyone's mind, even Claymore's. There had been repercussions he did not like from such activity too often.

"If it becomes a problem, or looks as if it would," the alien agreed.

"Would you like to stay over a day?" Carolyn invited. "Tomorrow's a special day."

"I didn't think ya celebrated Boxing Day 'ere?" Rose said.

"It's our first second anniversary," Mrs. Gregg smiled. "We got married twice in one week, two years ago. Tomorrow's the day I married Daniel using his real name, and New Year's is the day we married under his public name."

Rose blinked, but it made as much sense as the fact that she could be in places before she was born and long after the time she would normally be dead.

"Oh, I don't think so. Places to go, worlds to save, you know," the Doctor said.

"But, thank you," Rose added politely, rolling her eyes.

"Right, thank you." He handed Blackie a piece of paper with a number on it. "The TARDIS phone number. The one free long distance call you can make. If you need us, dial it."

"Thanks."

With a wave, the two time tourists stepped into the TARDIS. Moments later, a strange sound mingled with the roar of the surf, and it faded from view.

For a long moment, the group stood, oblivious to the cold air, staring at the now vacant space.

"That's something I will certainly never forget," Dave remarked.

"Dearest, you have an eidetic memory," Jenny pointed out. "NOTHING is forgotten with you."

"At least I have tons of good memories to keep," he grinned.

"Let's go in. I can be mystified just as easily by a nice fire as out on a windy beach," Martha said.

XXX

When everyone returned the next day for the anniversary celebration, they all did a double-take when Dash popped in; his beard was missing.

"In all the years I've known you," Sean noted, "I've never seen your face. Wasn't sure you had one under all that hair."

"Oh, surely I went beardless, once in a while," Dash protested.

Captain Gregg shook his head. "Not that I can recall. Rubbing his chin, he added, "Not that I have much room to comment; until I had to adopt disguises, I didn't go bare-faced very often."

"But, Sean and I both knew you before you could grow a beard," Molly reminded him. She smiled as she saw that Aunt Violet's photograph was now displayed in a new frame. "I do hope that if she could see those two when they took her picture, Rose wasna wearin' pants. Your aunt would have been shocked into the next week."

"As I do not recall her ever going on a rant about seeing a wild looking young woman, I think it safe to say that she did not," Daniel grinned.

"But, would you remember if it only recently happened, even if it was — oh forget it," Lynne sighed. "My brain will start hurting if I try to figure it out. Speaking of brain pain," she glanced at Dash, "Carolyn, how did you keep your mind from getting completely addled when trying to keep up with who Daniel was supposed to be when you two were dating? If it'd been me, I'd have slipped and called him the wrong name at least once, in public."

"I would have simply had to get jealous of myself then," the Captain smirked.

"Not too many men have that problem, I bet," Jess laughed. "You and Superman, maybe?"

"That's another name for Captain Dad," Candy teased.

"When in doubt, I just called him darling," Carolyn answered. "It worked well."

"And still does, my dear."

"Speaking of names, I'm taking suggestions for names for the next member of the family," Adam said. "I know there's plenty of time, but it's a big decision. If it's a girl, the matter is simple. There are a LOT of flowers out there. Daisy, Dahlia, Ivy, Camilia, Rose, even... but there are not many botanical male names."

"Adam, we are not, we are SO not naming our child after another plant, male or female. I'm tired of the tradition," Jess said firmly.

"You aren't supposed to say 'so not'," Jon reminded her.

"He told you, not me," the teacher sniffed.

"And no legendary names, if you want my two cents' worth of advice," Tristan said. "You don't want little - Agravaine or Gwynhyfar teased by the Shoemaker scions."

"I second that," Siegfried gravely contributed.

"The motion is carried and approved," Bronwyn remarked dryly. Her name also stemmed from an ancient myth, and she had often wished it were plainer.

"Okay, then, how about family names?" Adam shrugged.

"Gets confusing," Carolyn said. "Unless it's a middle name. Or unless the person you borrow the first name of goes by their middle name, or a nickname. Or is d — forget it. That's not a guarantee here."

"Well then, I know Dash's middle name, though we could use Charles, if it's a boy, that is, since no one calls him that, except Fontenot," Adam pondered, tapping his chin in concentration. "Hey, that's a thought. Fontenot, what's your name again?"

The senior ghost simply stared at him, morphing from his younger looking face to his most austere as he did so. "I do not recall mentioning it, despite being branded with one," he rumbled, glancing at Bronwyn, who simply shrugged.

"I had to do something," she said without remorse. "I should have asked that Doctor chap that. I bet he knows."

"It must be something awful," Tristan said. "Like Dodo, Gomer, or Togarmah..."

"You're in Genesis, I take it?" Blackie asked. The ghost inclined his head in acknowledgment.

"Count yourselves fortunate I let you know a name at all. My teacher refused to give us a name, period, to call him , so his students referred to him as M."

"For mentor?" Jenny asked. "Or Master?"

He nodded. " Mentor. I considered going by a letter alone, but it seemed more respectful to leave that to him only. Trust me, Adam. You can find a better name than mine, though it is not as dire as the lad suspects, to call your child." Changing the subject, he asked, "So, Charles, where is your beard?"

"Where Danny leaves his when he is not wearing it, or where you leave your spare faces," he retorted.

"There's a place?" Thom blinked.

"Figure of speech," Dash explained. "Now, I believe we are here to celebrate. Not discuss my chin." Thoroughly sick of the subject by now, he morphed the beard back onto his face.

"Darn. You looked pretty not bad without it, too," Lynne commented softly. Before he could come up with a response, she turned to her nephew. "Blackwood, are you doing the tree burning thing again this year?"

"Tree burning thing — lovely term for what is meant to be a meaningful event," the pastor noted.

"Jane's been fairly quiet," Carolyn noted.

"Knock on wood," Sean replied.

Smirking, Tristan tapped the top of Claymore's head.

"Hey, what was that for?"

"Don't blame me. Sean suggested it," the youngest ghost said innocently.

"He said knock on wood, not hit Claymore!"

"Same difference," Daniel chuckled. "But, back on topic, Jane or no Jane, what are the plans for Epiphany?"

"It was fairly well received," Blackie said. "Even without the drama factor. The session pretty well lets me do whatever I want, long as I don't get too carried away. I do know the town council LIKES to have spare trees to build up the dunes. Clay, how did tree sales go this year? Enough sold to support both projects, you think?"

The reedy, little man still looked miffed, and did not answer immediately.

"Oh, very well, I'm sorry for rapping you on the skull, Claymore, and implying you are wooden-headed," Tristan sighed, glancing at his Captain to follow suit.

"I may have spoken hastily," Daniel allowed. "MAY have."

Figuring that was as much of an apology as he could expect, Claymore sighed and nodded. "Yeah. Those dratted Scouts did better, as usual, but most folks here do use real trees, not fakes."

"Speaking of fakes, are you going to do a commemorative issue Beacon highlights?" Martha asked, laughing as she recalled that April fool issue the Captain had produced. "Crazy cottage by a fake. Totally weird."

"I could do without that," Ed said. "My ad got the treatment, too, you know."

"Oh? What did you put in Ed's ad?" Jenny asked.

"Fast Exits. No Job Done at All, instead of Fast Service, No Job Too Small," Ed grumbled.

Candy bit her lip to hold back a giggle. Her Uncle Ed had made a fast exit, more than once, from Gull Cottage. Unable to completely smother the laugh, she said, "Don't forget Rotten Dresses."

"Or the stale bakery," Jon chimed in.

"And Norrie's ad for spoiled lobster," Dave pointed out.

When the giggles and chuckles died out, the subject was changed, for Claymore and Ed's sakes.

December 28

The coffee table was blanketed with the snapshots Daniel had made on Christmas Day as Carolyn sorted through them to pick a few to mail Brad and Emily. Her lips pursed as she held up one of the carolers, debating whether or not to send it. Granted, her mom and dad had handled the news that the family was rife with ghosts quite well, but trying to explain who Rose was and why she was NOT a candidate for matchmaking with Jon or Blackie, might be tricky. Finally, she put that one aside and settled on a shot of Jenny and Candy playing with Amberly.

Just as she managed to find pictures that covered everyone except the inexplicable guests to send, Sean popped into Gull Cottage, looking slightly flustered.

"Hi, Sean," she smiled brightly. "Daniel's being shown some 'new-fangled' map-making tool Jon bought for one of his classes. I can call him for you..."

The Irishman nodded. "I'd appreciate that, Carrie. In fact, could you and he both come over? Claymore, Sig, and Bronwyn are over there, and — we need you two."

"Is something wrong?" Mrs. Gregg frowned.

"It might be, and you two are the best at handling Claymore."

"You can pop to the wheelhouse faster than I can walk," Carolyn replied. "I'll just go get my coat and we'll be right over."

"Thank ye, Carrie."

Fifteen minutes later, the ghost and his lady were at what was once Mr. Hampton's cottage. Claymore and Bronwyn were staring at each other mulishly, Siegfried looked rather puzzled as to what to do, and Molly was biting her lip, while seeming on the verge of one of her rare thunderclaps of frustration.

"Thank goodness," the redhead sighed softly.

"Now, that is just not fair," Claymore exclaimed. "Bringing HIM in to gang up on me."

"You are just more inclined to listen when the Captain is present, I have noticed," Sean pointed out mildly.

"What are you doing to bother these good people?" Daniel asked in a too calm tone.

"NOTHING. I just want to get another play in the works, now that the holidays are done," the little man protested.

"YouturnedallthemanagementovertoBronwyn!Andfurthermore, theholidayswillnotbeoverfordaysyet!" Siegfried rattled off.

"Huh?"

"The Christmas season does run until January sixth, unless you are — one of the Orthodox faiths, and then it goes on longer," Carolyn commented as she handed her coat to Molly.

"But, that is not a factor here!"

"And, as Siegfried pointed out, didn't you agree with Lynne to let Bronwyn run the theater?" Carolyn asked.

"Then, she should do something, not do nothing!" Claymore huffed.

"When I tried to hold auditions, everyone was too busy, because of the holidays, or down with the flu, and the few people that showed up are not at all suited for the plays you have scheduled, except for _I Do, I Do_, which, yes, Sean and Molly can manage, if they want to," Bronwyn bit out. The ghost lady looked tired, irate, and as if she was on the verge of a migraine, if specters could experience the things, that is.

Sean caught his two friends' eyes and gave them an eye-roll, indicating that this drama had been going on for quite a while.

"Maybe it will get better, now," Claymore suggested. "I mean..."

"Claymore, the plays you want to do just will not work with what human resources we have," Bronwyn stated firmly. "Or other resources, for that matter. The theater does have a budget; props and costumes cost money."

"You just don't want to do what I want to do because I want to do it," he accused.

"Oh, please. I've worked with far more irritating people than you," she snorted inelegantly.

"This is true," Siegfried muttered. He did not express his opinion that she had married one of them, but he was thinking it.

"We have to revise the schedule, if we can agree on what plays are — are — blast it — doable."

"I think you should agree, Claymore," Daniel suggested.

"Depends on what she has in mind," he maintained.

"What about — _Pygmalion_?" Bronwyn said. "_Lady_ was a success, and that is the same story..."

"No one likes repeats," Claymore argued.

"It is not a repeat, simply another version," Carolyn said.

"Thank you, Carolyn. And, it would look like favoritism to use Molly as the star too often. Rob, be a dear and pop over to Blackie's. Get that phone number. Rose had a perfect Eliza voice..."

For once, Siegfried was in the position of trying to calm Bronwyn down. "My dear, I think she's busy, and probably in another century by now." With a subtle frown, he rubbed a finger along the side of his nose.

"So?" Bronwyn snapped. "They have a time machine, Blackwood has the phone number. She could do it, and go back to the second she left off killing monsters. It would be a pleasant break."

"Maybe in a few months," Sean suggested. "They've been to Schooner Bay twice in less than two weeks. Don't want them to get bored with it."

"Oh, very well. I'm open to suggestions. We can't do the Scottish play. Adam would be the perfect one to portray MacDuff, Duncan's son, but he is clearly not available."

"What about another musical? _Godspell_, maybe? Then the church people would help," Claymore wheedled.

"Do you want to pay license fees that eat all the profits?" Carolyn asked. "We have had this discussion before."

"I hoped you forgot," he grimaced.

"Ghosts do not forget," Daniel reminded him.

"Blast," he grumped, shoving his glasses up his nose. "What about _Arsenic and Old Lace_?"

"I did think your brother would do well as Mortimer," Bronwyn said tentatively. "He does have the zany factor down pat." Her gaze slid to Siegfried. "And, you have the right touch to be Teddy."

"Hmm," the ghost mused.

Sean, Carolyn, and Daniel looked discomforted.

"What, darlin'?" Molly asked.

"We — it hits close to home, ye might say," he explained, fidgeting from one foot to the other. "Scruffy, bones in the basement, window seat, and all that."

"Oh, I didna think."

"You don't need to apologize, Molly," Bronwyn sighed, tossing her hands into the air. "I don't suppose you could see it as closure?"

"I used to love that movie," Carolyn admitted, "but since we found the not-so-great Callahan in the basement..."

"Indeed," Daniel agreed, adjusting his cuffs absently.

Claymore gulped. Now that he thought about it, his memory of that time was not all that pleasant, either.

"We will table the idea," Bronwyn conceded. "For now."

"I — I could maybe write another play. You know I wanted to re-envision _Cyrano_..." Claymore stammered.

Thunder crackled. Carolyn looked from one ghost to the other. She was fairly certain that it was her husband who had expressed disapproval, but it MIGHT have been another of them.

Mildly, the Captain said, "I believe I told you what I thought of that idea thirteen years ago."

"You have mellowed a little..." Claymore tried.

Carolyn closed her eyes. That was the wrong thing to say. So wrong even.

Before the last note of the el sound could finish, the house shook with Daniel's displeasure.

"Daniel Elias Alexander Gregg!" Molly snapped. "If you break my china..."

A few seconds later, the storm passed off. "I was most careful," he assured his long-time friend.

"See that you remain so."

"Er — maybe you haven't," Claymore gulped.

"I most certainly have not," the Captain snorted. "Nor will I."

"Could we please get back on topic?" Bronwyn asked. "My New Year's resolution is to get a play started as soon as we can after the start of nineteen eighty-three. We need to decide so I can get scripts and start auditions."

"So, we really have to do an old chestnut, huh?" Claymore asked.

"No, we do not have to, but I thought picking one of the older plays out might save costs," Bronwyn repeated. "I was keeping **_your _**concerns in mind."

"Well... how about we call that fellow with the time machine, and get a play that will come out in fifty years from now, and then it will be new, but no one else owns it either. Maybe, we even invented it." Claymore looked very pleased with the idea. "So, the people in the future who THINK it's theirs will have to pay US."

Daniel pinched his nose. "Claymore, doing so would create a time paradox, and furthermore, I doubt you will be alive in fifty years, so you could not reap the profit from the true authors paying you for their own play."

"What if I'm a ghost? I'd still need money," he insisted.

"Claymore, quit while you're uninjured," Sean suggested. "Let's just pick a play or two, and move along. I'm willing to perform _I Do, I Do_, if Molly is?"

His wife nodded, though whether that was because she truly wanted to act, or because she wanted this settled was not said.

"Fantastic! We could do that in — late January?" Bronwyn suggested. "Or early February. A Valentine's showing, perhaps? Meanwhile, we get something with a larger cast going."

"I would love to see you do something with a duel," Carolyn suggested, a tiny smile playing on her lips. "And, Daniel and his crew have trained several of this generation's young men with swords."

"They are apt pupils," Sean said.

"Even Blackie is, somewhat to my surprise," Daniel nodded.

"Yes, but the family members are all rather tied up with new enterprises, babies, and jobs that do not keep strictly business hours," Bronwyn pointed out. "This_ would _be much simpler if I could just use our people, but that's not practical. Aside from being accused of nepotism, which is only a bad thing if the person being nepotized is inept, all the writers in the family are working on the paper. Blackie, Lynne, and Adam have jobs that can demand their time at any moment. Dave, Jenny, Adam, and Jess are parents with unborn to very small children. Sean and Molly already have one play to rehearse for; ideally, we should begin the second one while they are in the midst of that. I don't know if others of the crew can even act."

"I'd say it's a fair bet that any of the ghostly crew can," Carolyn said. "After all, only those with 'ghostdar' have found them out, without being told, in all this time."

Pulling his ear, Daniel contradicted her, "My dear, you forget Barnaby."

"He is a genius," she retorted. "And, we were all rather relaxed around him, not on guard very much."

After a few more rounds of debate, Bronwyn and Claymore finally agreed to begin auditions for _Picnic_ in two weeks. Molly and Sean agreed that they could have _I Do, I Do _memorized and ready by Valentine's easily.

By the time it was settled, Carolyn and Daniel had to leave when Jonathan came over to pick them up for the trip to Skeldale and lunch with Candy and Adam. Work was so slow that week that the attorney and his assistant had time for that kind of thing.

The diner at which they met had virtually no other patrons. Remnants of holiday decorations lingered, looking somewhere between cheerful and bedraggled.

"So, has anything new happened since Boxing Day?" Carolyn asked after their meals were left on the table.

"Not on my end. Jess is not wanting to take the tree down yet. I'm ready to turn it over to Blackie," Adam shrugged. "And, I do envy her being off for another few days."

Candy was silent, until Jonathan poked her in the side. "What's up, Sis? You look like somethin's bugging you."

"Besides being elbowed?" she asked, just a little testily.

"Candy?" her step-father asked.

"Well, you know the mails can be quirky. It didn't arrive until really late yesterday, and I didn't even look at what we got until this morning...There was a card from — " she hesitated, not sure what to call them, " — the — Grandmother and Grandfather Muir."

Carolyn and Daniel exchanged looks of concern while Adam lifted one brow.

Fidgeting uneasily, Jon asked, "What'd they say?" For over a year, he had been keeping the Muirs, especially his grandfather, at arm's length.

Laying down the fork she'd been playing with, Candy blew her bangs out of her eyes. "Usual holiday- stuff. Sorry about Thom's accident. Hoped he was better by now. Said it was 'nice' — but it sounded like a condescending 'nice' about Mom and the paper. The nice that says you really don't know what to say, but that sounds safe. Called it the _Lantern_, not the _Beacon_." She paused to roll her eyes.

"Names are not Mr. Muir's strong suit," Adam remarked, taking a sip of his coffee. "Not even for businesses. At least, not unless he has invested in them."

"What else?" Carolyn asked.

"Oh, if I would just come to Philly, where all the finest doctors are, I could surely get my little problem, to quote, fixed." The young woman's lips thinned to a scowl. She had learned to control her temper over the years, but it was still there, and nearly pushed to the edge.

Carolyn reached under the table to squeeze Daniel's hand. It was too clear for him to thunder unnoticed. There was only a slight rumble.

"I was not aware," he said mildly, "that Lynne or that fellow that operated on Thom had moved away. And, I would assume that Blackie's friend also lives there?" He scratched his ear thoughtfully.

"I don't think Lynne has moved," Adam replied. "She did call this morning and mentioned that she and, to quote, Charlie, were going to the movies tonight... on a date. A date, I tell you, not a this is not a date, understand?" He chuckled. "Now, answer me this, if those two ever get over this — angst and denial and do something about anything, what will happen to Sig?"

"We just left him at Sean and Molly's, they were all trying to referee between Bronwyn and Claymore," Carolyn replied. She had no idea what the answer to Adam's question was. He was NOT moving into Gull Cottage.

"I bet that was — interesting," Candy said, frowning thoughtfully. "You know, I hope Uncle Dash and Lynne do figure things out... but I'd really miss him."

"My dear, he won't be that far away," the Captain assured her with a gentle smile. "After all, he has excellent transportation."

After lunch ended, Carolyn decided to take advantage of the wider selection of shops in Skeldale to get supplies for the New Year's Eve party they had planned in a few days.

December 29

"Sig, what did I volunteer to bring for the party the day after tomorrow?" Lynne asked as she came into the dining room. "I thought I had it written down, but now I can't find where I put the grocery list. I could call Carolyn, but I don't want to admit to anyone how dense I am." She paused. "I can't hide it from you. Unfortunately."

"You are not dense, dear girl," the Englishman assured her. "I believe that you offered to pick up paper goods. Don't worry; I've given Tristan funds and told him to handle the shopping. Make himself useful, for once." With a slight wave, he floated a cup of coffee to the doctor. "I do understand why you might be rather distracted, of course."

Taking the beverage from midair, Lynne stared at him. "Has — Thom or Jess had some — complication that you think I know about but I don't know about because someone is keeping something from me to stop me from worrying?"

Siegfried looked at her in astonishment. "If so, they are not telling me, either. No, that's not what I meant. Iwasreferringtotheevent."

"It's not the first party the family has had. We do kinda make excuses to all get together," she shook her head. "Did you tell Tris to take care of whatever Barnaby needs?"

"He offered before I could," Siegfried nodded. "He does have the potential to be a considerate young man."

Lynne nodded. "I've noticed that."

Silence fell as she opened the pantry to get out cereal for breakfast. "Whatcha want, Sig?"

"Ah — nothing, nothing at all." Though not as fast as usual, his speech was a bit rushed.

She turned, grinning. "Okay. I have learned my lesson, you guys do not need to eat, but I don't mind fixing you something."

"Oh, breakfast. I thoughtyoumeant... somethingaltogetherdifferent. EarlGreyisfine."

Stopping to process his statement, Lynne shook her head. "What else besides breakfast would I mean?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," he said so chipperly that she knew something was off.

"Okay, Siegfried Robin Matthews, what is on your mind?" Lynne demanded, putting the Special K down to place both hands on her hips.

Under the implacable gaze, Siegfried let out a breath and admitted, "I wondered how your — date went."

"The movie was okay." Her shoulders lifted noncommitally. "Nothing special. Most movies are like that."

"And... the company? The evening itself?"

A hint of color stained Linden's face. "It was — nice."

"It was your first date," Siegfried pointed out in a paternal tone.

Lynne turned back to the box, fiddling with the flaps. "We aren't teens. It was — just like a non-date, really. Once we relaxed. I mean, we were both kinda edgy, then realized it is not like the first time we've gone out. Just changed the name of it."

"I'm sorry," Siegfried fumbled, at a loss for words.

"What's to be sorry about? It was good. I was with someone I l—ike, a lot, and it was a good time, but — I realized — it wasn't our first date, okay? Not exactly." She finally got the box open, scattering a few flakes as she did. Before she could find a broom, Siegfried had the mess swept away.

"Thanks. I guess it not being a first date was good. I remember what Carolyn told me about her and Daniel's first date. A total nightmare, except for the company." Her shoulders lifted and fell. "So, other than the — company — it was pretty ordinary." Realizing what she'd let slip, she hurried on, "I mean, how many ladies date or undate a guy like that — er — who's been — you know, a while?"

"Of course," Siegfried smiled slightly. "Here. Sit. Let me get your breakfast. It will be less work, I promise, than having to deal with the chaos you are on the verge of making." He tried to sound gruff, but Lynne could see through the act.

"Enough about me. What about you?" she asked, leaning back so he could set the bowl before her. "Thanks."

"What about me? I will grant that this week has been rather slow, but it would be quite wrong of me to wish your office busier. I mean, after all, that would be asking for the town's folk to get sick!"

Lynne shook her head. "Not work, or the horses, or what Tristan has done to drive you nuts..."

"He has been rather well-behaved, of late, actually," Siegfried frowned. "If he could be ill, I would be concerned."

"SIG! What about Bronwyn — and you?"

"We can not become ill, either," he said, opening the paper. "I must say, I am looking forward to Carolyn fully taking over this thing. I don't see HOW the Beacon has lasted so long."

"No other option to compete with it. Stop changing the subject. I know you can't get sick." Lynne paused to glare at the closest thing she had ever had to a brother. "What about the romance?"

"Romance? My dear girl, I don't know what — "

"Siegfried," she bit out, "I have heard the full story on your history with Bronwyn, and I've seen you two together. Don't tell me you don't know of what I speak. Don't even try."

Sighing, he lowered the paper. "I believe we are simply friends. She speaks of little other than the theater, or of the rest of the family and how they are doing. She has been rather fascinated with Blackwood's friends, but I can not blame her for that. There is no romance."

"The word I would like to say is not something a lady should use," the doctor retorted. "But, I'm sure you had a lot of it in the farm. Sig..."

"Lynne, I have no idea how to re-establish our — what we had. It was over a lifetime ago, and is not as simple as Sean and Molly make it seem." A look of sad resignation filled his face. "It will be enough. I did overhear a bit of the conversation with Miss Tyler, and think perhaps my situation with Bronwyn is like unto what she faces in this transformation her Doctor has undergone." He shrugged, taking a swig of his tea. "Friendship is an improvement over resenting her. And, I am not very romantic."

Lynne rolled her eyes. "Siegfried, there's more to love and romance than the shivery, glowy feelings." She flushed. "And, your eyes must need checking, ghost or not. She definitely sees you as more than a friend. So, quit dawdling."

"Could not the same be said to you?" he retorted, inclining his head to peer at her over the glasses he wore out of habit.

"I haven't wasted a century," she stabbed a spoon in his direction.

"Besides, you are imagining things," Siegfried blustered. "She's simply so — passionate and vibrant that friendship can be easily mistaken for — something more."

"You've got a bad case of it," Lynne shook her head.

"Even if I do, it takes two to — dance."

"Someone's gotta ask, and she is too much of a lady to do the asking," Lynne countered.

"I still say you are tossing stones from the vantage point of a glass house," Siegfried snorted. "And, you sound as if you have been conspiring with my baby brother."

"Hey, I thought he'd graduated from babyhood?" Lynne noted mildly. "And, what is he saying that so wise, if he's sounding like me, that is?" Her lips twitched into a slight smile.

Frowning, Siegfried dodged her gaze. "Simply that there are good and laudable reasons to be an idiot, from time to time, but I do not have one, at least not any longer, and I should quit wasting time. All the time in the world is not a given, even for ghosts." Shaking his head, Siegfried returned to the Beacon. "Wise, hah. Smart-aleck boy is more like it."

Very quietly, Lynne said, "I'd say you raised a pretty smart young man."

"Daniel had more to do with that than I," Siegfried sighed.

"He was well on his way by the time he signed on with the Captain," Lynne said with a lopsided smile. "You done good, my friend. Now, consider a second chance to be happy your reward." On that note, she rose and took her dishes to the sink.

December 31, 6:00 pm

Under Martha's watchful eye, several pairs of ghostly hands had Gull Cottage in party order in under an hour. Jonathan and Thom gathered all available sleeping bags in the family so that anyone who needed or wanted to would have a semi-comfortable place to retire. Though no one in the family was a heavy drinker, they had all agreed with Carolyn that it would be best to not add any under the influence drivers to the holiday traffic. One major wreck per year was entirely too many.

By seven, everyone was present and accounted for; Daniel, Carolyn, Jonathan, Martha, Ed, Claymore, Barnaby, Blackie, Elroy, Fontenot, Claymore, Jenny, Dave, Amberly, Tristan, Siegfried, Lynne, Dash, Candy, Thom, Jess, Adam, Sean, Molly, and Bronwyn.

"I don't suppose your friends are coming back for the party?" Claymore asked Blackie, shoving his glasses up his nose.

"They did not mention it," the pastor shrugged. "And, I doubt he would tell you the future in any case. Keep your mind on now, my friend. It's called the present for a reason."

On that note, he left Claymore with a puzzled look on his face, and headed over to see how Elroy was doing, and if he needed rescuing. From where he stood, it appeared that Bronwyn was hitting him up to participate in the theater, and Blackie was not sure the poor, nervous ghost could handle the stress.

"So, Cap'n, any resolutions for next year?" Ed asked.

Daniel considered a moment, then shook his head. "Why try to improve what is already the quintessence of sublime?"

"Now, darling, don't you think you need to work on being less modest?" Carolyn teased as she came up beside him to slip an arm around her husband. "Ed, are you sure you don't want a kitten? Tribble there seems glued to your side tonight."

The constable grimaced. "No thanks, ma'am. I think he just wants the crab salad I've got." He took a bite. "If you do a recipe column, get Jenny to put this in there, and if you don't, I need to see if she'd let Martha have a copy. Maybe I better either way."

"She got the recipe from Elroy," Carolyn smiled. "I think it'd do him good to be asked something that's semi-important to someone."

"Whoever, Martha needs to make this," Ed nodded.

"You know, this room needs a clock," Tristan commented. "A big, grandfather clock."

"It does not!" Claymore squealed.

"It would be handy tonight," Barnaby agreed. "So we could greet the new year."

"My watch works just fine," the former landlord insisted. "Mickey got fixed ages ago." He pointed defiantly at his wrist and his "uncle" snorted.

"Long story, Barnaby," Jonathan said in a loud whisper. "Tell ya later."

The professor nodded.

And so the conversations eddied and swirled for most of the night as everything and nothing were discussed thoroughly.

Around eleven, Dakota began barking as crackling pops broke through the party sounds.

"Shall we head out back to see the show?" Daniel asked. "Sounds like the fire department's lightshow is underway, and there's a clear view to the town."

Sean and Siegfried popped coats to the mortals present. Then, Sig handed his brother a jacket.

"I don't get cold, remember?" the young man pointed out. "And, I didn't think strong drink affected the likes of us."

"Oh, I know, but we don't want you to look cold," his brother chuckled.

Shrugging, Tristan pulled on the jacket in resignation. "I'm not sure how well I like your good moods lately. It's downright weird."

For several minutes, no one spoke as they watched the sky light up in a dazzling kaleidoscope of sparkling glory.

"Looks like that meteor shower we saw on that first voyage," Sean commented softly after a while.

"Or the Northern Lights," his friend agreed.

The doctor's neck began to stiffen, so she looked away from the brilliant sky to glance around at her family; Adam massaging Jess' shoulders gently, Carolyn wrapped in Daniel's embrace, Sean and Molly leaning together, Jenny with her head on Dave's shoulder, Candy holding Thom's hand, Sig hovering near Bronwyn, the various unattached guys standing by themselves. Tristan halfway between his brother and her son. Blackie seemingly staring at the stars as much as the sparklers. Her eyes swept the group again. There was so much joy there, but she could see regrets, too.

Taking a step back, Lynne felt herself collide with a solid form. She half turned to look up at Dash. "Sorry." A little uneasily, she added, "Of course, if you weren't standing so close, I wouldn't have bumped you."

"No problem, milady," he grinned, reaching out to flick a strand of hair off her cheek. "I want to be close when the kissing hour arrives. My foot would be an excuse to say 'I think I need a doctor,' though," Even in the dark he saw her flush. "Lynne," Dash said in a serious tone, "I've had a thought..."

"You too?" she blurted.

"I've wanted to talk to you...but — " Uncharacteristic uncertainty filled the ghost's eyes.

"Now is good," she whispered.

Their gazes locked, and both nodded before stepping away from the small crowd.

The kissing hour came and went while the crew stood outside. When the last trail of light faded from the midnight sky, they trooped back inside. The mortal males trooped upstairs to the kids' former rooms to change before hitting the sleeping bags, while the mortal women went into Martha's old room to change. Between the mild drinking and late hour, even the ghosts felt slightly bleary.

Not until morning did anyone realize that two members of the family were AWOL.

As they reassembled for breakfast, Jess looked around the kitchen, inhaling the sweet, verboten smell of coffee. "Where is my sister? It didn't hit me last night, but I don't remember seeing her come back into Gull Cottage."

Scratching his head, Thom looked around, then hollered, "Mom?"

"Oh, don't do that," Claymore moaned.

"Claymore, you drank two glasses of wine. That is not enough to get a hangover," Fontenot chided before Daniel could.

"It had a kick," he sniffed.

The fridge door swung open, a glass flew out off the drain rack to drift over and allow a pitcher of orange juice to fill it, then float to Claymore as things closed. "Drink up, you lily-liver," the Captain admonished.

"Where IS Aunt Lynne?" Blackie asked. "Did the phone ring overnight? Was she — beeped?"

"I didn't hear a thing," Barnaby said, scratching his head.

"And where's Dash?" Carolyn asked as she poured herself some coffee. "Did he pop home?"

"I doubt he would do that," Sean scowled in puzzlement.

"I tranced, so don't look at me," Tristan said.

Breakfast was forgotten so that a search could be mounted. If the two missing people were anywhere in the house trying to sleep or trance, they would surely be woken by the sound of the tramping around. Even the basement was checked, but there was not so much as a kitten or bone to be seen there.

"Ed, you're constable, do something," Martha said.

"It hasn't been twenty four hours, and they're both adults, so I can't do anything," he shook his head. "Don't think he could be hurt, and she probably got a call and no one heard it."

"It's weird," Candy stated flatly.

"You don't think they — ah — " Dave started to say, reddening a little.

"No!" Thom snapped.

Daniel and Sean exchanged half amused glances.

"I didn't see anyone leave," Elroy stammered, "And I'm no good at the trance thing."

"We'll try to help you get it figured out, Elroy," Bronwyn offered.

"Aye," Molly nodded.

Before anyone else could speak, there was a creak on the porch, as if someone had stepped on the board that squeaked no matter how often it was repaired.

Carolyn hastened to the door to fling it open just as Dash and Lynne raised their hands to knock.

"Where have you been?" she exclaimed.

"Mom?"

"Sis?"

"Lynne?"

"Uncle Dash!" chorused from various corners. The questions mingled into an unintelligible roar until Daniel whistled.

"Pipe down so they can speak. Now, where were you?"

"We... ah..." Dash began.

"Got married," Lynne finished.

Silence fell.

"You what?" Jess squawked.

The newlyweds stepped fully inside and shoved the door shut.

"Married. It — just felt like the right time," Lynne said.

"Hold on. Where was I?" Blackie said. "Who married you?"

"A J.P. just over the state line," Lynne replied.

"Do you even realize how Sue is going to flip?" Jess demanded. "Barnaby, you call her. You have a calming effect, and I don't want to be yelled at."

"Okay."

"We didn't want fuss," Dash answered.

"Too late," Jon whispered.

"And, excuse me, but hello, let me introduce myself. Blackwood O'Ryan. I am a local pastor. I could have married you," Blackie huffed. "Fine thing. People travel through time _and _space to consult me, but my own family just — just — sheesh."

"AND," Jess huffed, "Maybe this happened in another universe, but Adam, I seem to recall SOMEONE, or several SOMEONES who shall remain nameless, telling you and ME we could NOT elope."

"At least your idea didn't go to waste?" her sister essayed.

"We thought you all MIGHT be happy," Dash sniffed.

"We are," Carolyn said firmly.

"Definitely," Candy and Jenny said.

"It's blasted about TIME," Siegfried snorted. "Now, perhaps people will quit trying to set the two of us up."

"Welcome to the poodle club," Daniel chuckled, clapping a hand on Dash's shoulder.

"Sig, if you'd like to stay with us a little while," Jenny offered after glancing at Dave and getting a nod.

"Or, I could maybe use a little assist with Junior here," Jess jumped in.

"I was going to say, we're used to having a ghost around, so — " Candy said.

"He's going to be insufferable now, with three lovely, young women begging him to stay with them," Tristan noted to no one in particular.

"He can't leave me, yet," Lynne said. "Uh — we've had a few hours to drive and talk — and we are planning on a honeymoon. Doctor Anderson across town would probably be willing to take my calls for a week or so, but I'd feel better if you watched the house, Sig. And, it is your home, too. We wouldn't want to kick you out."

Dash had to bite his tongue to not say, _Oh, really?_ He wasn't copacetic with the notion of sharing a house with another man.

"But, it would not be right for me to stay," Sig gently countered. "Nor would I want to feel like a — third wheel. However, I will gladly mind the house while you two travel. And I will work something out, lodging wise, I promise. It would appear I have no shortage of offers."

"I'm surprised Dash is willing to leave his house," Adam remarked.

"Only for a very good reason," Dash smiled. "I realized I needed a doctor more than nostalgia."

"We did discuss it, but I didn't think Thom'd be thrilled with me moving in, and besides, I can't pop to work," the doctor drawled.

"But wouldn't it be handy if you could?" Dave said with a grin.

"Wait, you said you're going on a honeymoon?" Claymore exclaimed.

"Naturally, you brainless shrimp," Daniel chided. "It is what married people do."

"But — my health is — delicate, and what if I have an emergency? You can't pop, you just said, so — you can't go. I need you here."

"I just said, Doctor Anderson will take care of my patients," Lynne sighed, mentally scheduling a hearing check for him first thing after her return.

"But — he's all the way across town!" Claymore fretted.

"Claymore, it's not a very big town," Barnaby remonstrated. "Just stay calm, and take care of yourself, and I bet you won't have even one problem while they are gone."

"We'll all check in on ye, Claymore," Sean offered. "No harm will come to you."

"If you behave," Bronwyn muttered.

"Right, now, this is marvelous. So, let's quit squabbling and be happy," Molly said.

"And, now we have TWO New Year's anniversaries!" Martha beamed. "Unless you got married before midnight?"

"It was around two," Lynne yawned.

"That's right! Your official one is today, Dad!" Candy exclaimed. "Cool."

"I do want to know one thing," Adam said, holding up his hand. "The date on your marriage certificate..."

"I simply moved my birth date forward, a few decades," Dash shrugged, anticipating the full query. "As Danny did for his."

"I'm not sure it's legal," the lawyer winced.

"But, knowing that there had to be one with the real dates on it, I brought along another copy that Clay here can sign with my true date of birth on it," the nobleman finished. "You can find a place to file it so that it's never found, Adam?"

His brother-in-law nodded with a half-grin.

"I can't just sign it. I have to see it," Claymore frowned. "The wedding I mean. I do have ethics."

"Well, we did sorta figure that Blackwood might feel left out if we didn't get married in the church, well not IN the church, but with a minister, like him," Lynne said. "So, we ARE married, but if the O'Caseys and the Greggs can have two ceremonies, why can't we?"

"You mean, here, today?" Jess asked.

Dash and Lynne looked at each other. "Uhm, yeah," Lynne nodded. "Barnaby, would you and Thom toss a coin to see who gives me away? You are older, and my favorite cousin, but Thom's my son."

"Speaking of coin tosses, how do I pick between my three oldest friends and Adam as best man?"

"Not to mention me on matron of honor," Lynne reminded him.

"I see why you did it the way you did," Carolyn laughed. "Might I suggest we all just witness the ceremony, no specific roles?"

"You married a smart lady, my friend," Dash said.

"So did you," the Captain smirked. "However, let's wait a few hours to do this. Not everyone can change clothes in the blink of an eye."

The next span of time was consumed with preparations. The ghosts popped around to get fancier clothes than the ones everyone had brought to change into while Molly and Elroy took over the kitchen to get a combination reception/anniversary party assembled in record time. All over Gull Cottage, things happened rapidly.

Dash took Thom aside. "Look, son, I hope you aren't — upset. I'm not trying to fill your dad's shoes, it'd be rather late for that, for one thing, and even if it wasn't, it would not be right. I — love your mother, and..."

The young man held up a hand, cutting off the verbal stumbling. "I never knew my dad, so taking his place isn't an issue. I do admit that I'd hoped, maybe, that since you guys are ghosts, and Molly and Sean, or Bronwyn and Sig, went for over a century not knowing that each other were ghosts..." He grimaced. "I hoped maybe Dad's spirit would show up and...but I guess not."

"I could see if Fontenot has a way to check on that," Dash frowned, kicking himself for not thinking of it and hoping that there was nothing to find.

Thom shook his head. "No. It'd just cause problems, and I know she loves you. Just make sure she's happy. Even if it's as freaky to see for me as seeing Sig happy is to Tris. A good weird, but, weird."

"You have my solemn oath."

In another room, Martha was giving Lynne a something blue, a silk scarf she could carry, and a bit of advice. "Dash is very special to all of us, me especially. I know he was never serious about flirting with me, but he helped Ed wake up and smell the cherry pie. So, be good to him, okay? He's a fine man, and not just to look at."

Carolyn paused as she fished a strand of pearls for the borrowed out of her jewelry box. "I second that, Lynne. Dash got me to come home, and helped us remember home. So..."

"Whoa," Lynne interjected. "I have every intention of — well, I really don't know how to be a wife. A week's worth of practice twenty odd years ago doesn't count for a lot, but, I'll be me, hopefully a better me because of him. And hope that makes him happy."

"It will," Candy smiled, unfastening the earrings the Doctor had given her to serve as the old part of the rhyme.

Downstairs, Barnaby was surrounded by Jess, Adam, and Blackie as he made the call to his cousin, Susan.

"You heard me, Sue. Yes, married. No, I did not put YOUR invitation to the wedding in Blackwood's fridge. There weren't invitations. They just showed up, married. No, I did not forget the wedding. It's legal. Adam saw the papers. Yes, he would know. I promise. Dash is a good guy." Wincing, he held the phone away from his ear and looked at his two cousins helplessly, mouthing _She is YOUR mother, Blackie._

"Allow me," Adam said, deftly taking the phone. "Susan, Adam here. Excuse me, but do you think you could possibly yell just a hair louder? I don't think they heard you in Philadelphia. Look, I have known Charles Dashire for my entire life, and he is honorable, kind, wealthy, and according to Jess, quite handsome to female eyes. You could not ask for a better man for Lynne, not one that's not taken, anyway, and she IS happy with him. I'm sorry, we would have invited you if we had known it was happening, but they don't want a fuss, so... Ah, yes. Jess is doing fine. No, we don't want, well, er — SHE does not want to know what we are having, but I have it on the greatest authority that we are having either a boy or girl, not a — a boa constrictor. Really? I thought it was amusing. Happy New Year. Good-bye." On that, he hung up with a smirk. "She's not thrilled, but I didn't leave Carolyn's number, so she can't call back." He raised a brow and added, "However, Blackie, your answering machine might be blistered by the time you get home."

"Lovely." Blackie stretched his neck from side to side, working out kinks he could feel coming. "I don't suppose you could break it, Barnaby?"

"Not on purpose," the professor shook his head. "It'd be easy to do accidentally, but if I try on purpose, it won't work."

"If it wouldn't be bad for your business, I'd get Tris to fry ours," Jess said grimly. "Bet he could."

Finally, it was time. Despite Lynne's arguments that they need not fuss, Molly reminded her that they had not let HER get away with that protest.

And so, Fontenot lead the bride to stand in front of Blackie, beside her husband in front of the portrait of the Captain.

"Dear family, we are gathered her to witness the vows of these two people, finally," Blackie said, "in holy matrimony. Although they are married, we wish to celebrate their joy with them. This is the first institution created by God and is for the good of both parties. Linden Thomas Avery, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, in times of joy and of sorrow, in powered state and when the Sea Vulture is in port, in wealth or poverty, forsaking all others, as long as you are both here?" He was really having to wing it on this ceremony as he adapted the traditional one for an already married human/ghost union.

"Yes."

"And, do you Charles Dashire the — the — whatever, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, in times of joy or sorrow, in sickness and health, in wealth or poverty, forsaking all others as long as you are both here?"

"Absolutely."

"Rings?" Blackie prompted.

"We couldn't find an open jewelry shop," Dash confessed.

"Charles, just envision two rings for the ceremony. They will remain solid as long as you are," Fontenot reminded him.

"Good idea. Couldn't get away with that this morning."

With concentration, he produced two bands for the exchange, promising mentally to get a pair of real ones first thing when the shops opened.

"I, Charles, take you Lynne to be my bride, to love and cherish forever."

"I, Linden, take you Charlie to be my husband, to love and cherish always."

Then, Blackie nodded, and Daniel stepped forward to stand beside him. Together they said, "By the powers vested in us by God and the laws of land and sea, you are now pronounced husband and wife. Kiss the bride."

To the sound of applause, they did so.


End file.
